Nothing
by mon-petit-pois
Summary: She is back. She has been saved from Somalia, that hell that was her home for three months. But she has nothing, not even the will to live, because in her mind she hasn't suffered nearly enough for her sins. And she knows she does not deserve happiness.
1. Deserving

"Let's go home."

The words echoed through Ziva's head over and over again as she was practically dragged out of the building that had held her captive for over three months. She didn't look back as they hoisted her into the back of a truck. The sound of helicopter blades and gunfire grew steadily softer as she was taken farther and farther from hell. The voices around her were slurring, the images she was seeing becoming distorted and swirling around her. Nothing made sense. Everything was happening so fast, she just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. As she was laid down on the hard bed of the truck, her eyes began to droop. She heard the voices around her telling her to stay awake, to stay with them, but they didn't seem to register in her brain.

And slowly, gradually, the noise of gunfire and voices and truck engines faded into silence, until there was only one sound.

_Let's go home._

She awoke to a steady beating. Tha thump. Tha thump. Tha thump.

Her eyes slowly opened, and she took in her surroundings.

She appeared to be in a C-130. Her head was resting on a sleeping Tony's left shoulder, her ear right by his heart. Gibbs was sitting on the bench on the other side of the plane, his head nodded off to the side. Tim sat next to him, wide awake and talking softly on his cell phone.

"Abby, Abby, please calm down... Yes I know... She's not well, Abby. She's not Ziva..." Ziva bit her lip as she realized he was talking about her. "Abby, when you see her please don't pounce on her, okay? She's jumpy enough as it is... I don't know what they did to her, Abs. But whatever it is I am not entirely sure I want to know. It's like the life in her eyes is just... Gone. You didn't hear her say it, Abby. She flat out said she was ready to die. Whatever makes her the Ziva that we knew is simply... Not there. Maybe it's there, but it's hidden. They broke her, Abby. She's not the same."

Ziva stopped listening, trying hard to tune him out and focusing on Tony's steady heartbeat instead.

Because Tim was right.

They had broken her. She was nothing but a shell. An empty, homeless, unloved shell. They had taken away her hope, her pride, her dignity, and most importantly her love for life. She wasn't one to wallow in self pity, but she felt right now like she was completely... Worthless.

The men who had saved her deserved more than this broken shell of a woman.

She wasn't sure how many times she had begged for death. She had been sure that it would come soon, and her pain would stop. She was rescued, but she had been counting on the fact that her pain would be eliminated soon, in death. Now, the release of death was not an option and the only choice she had was to face her pain.

Why did they have to save her?

They got nothing out of this. All they had now was a beaten up team and a woman who they could no longer love.

A tear ran down her cheek. She angrily wiped it away, chastising herself for her weakness. She was undeserving of their love. Everything that had happened to her in that camp had been justified. She deserved this pain and a hell of a lot more. She couldn't help but feel guilty for getting out alive.

She had tortured people before. Many people. She had heard their screams of pain and ignored it, causing them more and more pain.

Things seem a lot different from this side of the knife.

And fist. And whip. And car battery. And every other instrument of torture she had ever used.

She almost broke down right there. The faces of all the people she had ever hurt floated before her face. She had often joked that she couldn't remember the names of all the people she had killed or hurt.

It was a lie. She knew them all by name. She remembers how she hurt them, when she did it, and the look on their faces as they felt the pain.

It hadn't hit her before this. But in that cell, all she could see were their faces. When Saleem took her leg and crushed every single bone in her foot, she remembered the Italian operative she had done that to to get answers. She remembers everything with precise detail, which makes it all the more hell.

She deserved the pain, the agony, the suffering. She deserved it all.

She did not deserve to be saved.

Abby's arms were around her, holding her delicately in a way that Ziva didn't know she was capable of. The various injuries that had healed somewhat, yet had still caused her extreme pain, screamed in protest. She had managed to downplay the pain she was in and fool the team, but she knew she couldn't fool Ducky, who looked on at the scene with a knowing look on his face.

He had seen torture. He had treated it. He knew that look in her eyes.

The look only seen on a person who was resigned to death.

Everything seemed too loud. Too bright. Too clean. Too happy. She needed to be alone. This was all too much.

Ducky motioned for her to follow him, and she did so gladly. They stayed silent for the trip down to autopsy, but the pain in her eyes and the careful way she walked did not escape his notice. He knew she was suffering, but was taking it all in stride and was refusing to acknowledge her pain. She refused to ask for help.

It was a painful process for her, but she somehow managed to hoist her beaten body up onto the autopsy table.

He took note of all her injuries, trying to take the least invasive route possible. It was still necessary for her to undress, however. When he requested that she do so, he saw the fear flash in her eyes. As quick as it came, it was gone, however. It was replaced by a steely resolve and a brave look.

Ducky wished she knew she didn't have to be brave for him.

Her breathing sped up a little as she took off her clothes. As good as it felt to be free of the dirty and bloody material, she couldn't stand it. She couldn't stand feeling completely exposed, baring her scars for all to see.

She laid down on the table, trying to ignore the feeling of dread and horror as she felt the eyes of a man raking up and down her naked body. She closed her eyes, attempting to focus only on the cool metal below her. But it didn't work. She needed to see what was going on.

She watched Ducky inspect her. When he came to her legs and noticed the familiar bruising pattern, he looked to her with compassion and sorrow in his gaze. She looked away.

She didn't want their pity. She did not deserve to be pitied. She did not deserve compassion and sorrow for her pain.

She did not deserve love.

She spaced out while he examined her. There was not much he could do, her wounds were nearly healed by now. All he could do was clean the wounds, patch her up a little, and hand her a bottle of painkillers. She didn't hear him tell her how many to take. She wasn't planning on taking any. She deserved to suffer through this the whole way.

She tried not to look at the X-rays. But she couldn't resist. She saw all the fractures and breaks that had healed. She saw her foot, which had cracks all over it. When he asked her if it hurt, she said no.

She lied. It hurt like hell to walk on it.

Ducky gave her a skeptic glance, but gave her a brace and told her to use it and stay off the foot as much as possible.

So naturally, Ziva decided she would forgo the brace and go for a run when she got back home.

Home. With a pang she realized that she had no home. Her home had been blown up.

Naturally, Gibbs and Tony and McGee had offered to let her stay with them.

And she, of course, had declined. She would go and stay at the Navy Lodge.

When she left Ducky's, she headed back up to the squad-room. They all stood up when she came into sight, a fact that Ziva sort of resented. It made her feel weak. They would never dared to have done that before, and the fact that they did now was like a blow.

She was weak.

"I would like to go home now," Ziva said. Gibbs nodded.

"DiNozzo. Drive her to the Navy Lodge," Gibbs ordered. Tony nodded.

"Yes, Boss," he replied, picking up his things and heading towards the elevator.

"That is not necessary. I will take a cab-"

"Necessary my ass, Ziva. NCIS rented out two rooms, one for you and one for your detail," Tony told her, pointing to himself.

"I do not need a babysitter!"

"You aren't well, Ziver. Someone's gotta stay with you. You do have a choice in this. It's go to the Lodge with Tony, or spend the night in the hospital. You pick," Gibbs shrugged. He knew he had won. Ziva sighed.

"Fine," she growled, heading to the elevator, trying her best not to limp. Tony followed her.

"You won't even know I'm there, Zee-VAH," Tony promised. Her heart gave a little pang when she heard him say her name like that.

Like old times.

This wasn't old times. Things would never be the same again.

The drive was spent in an awkward silence. Tony, for the first time, simply couldn't think of what to say.

Ziva was glad.

When they pulled up to the Navy Lodge, Tony went to get them checked in. He gave her the room key, and they headed together up to the second floor. Ziva went inside of her room, and Tony lingered in the doorway.

"Go, Tony. I am fine," she assured him. After a moment's hesitation, he heaved a sigh and went next-door.

After setting down the brace and painkillers Ducky had given her on a table by the door, Zivs took a look around the room. It consisted of a bathroom to her right, and further into the room was a desk, and a comfortable-looking bed that seemed to call to her. But the need to clean herself from the desert filth was overpowering. She forgot about the bed, and went to the bathroom. She could take a bath, the thought was inviting, but she was afraid that if she did the desire to go under the water and never come back up would be overpowering. She knew she couldn't kill herself. She hadn't suffered nearly enough for her sins.

So she turned the shower head to the right all the way, until it was so hot it burned her skin. It hurt, but she needed to cleanse herself of _him_.

No matter how hard she scrubbed, she didn't feel clean.

Eventually, once her hair was untangled and the grime of three months in the desert had swirled down the drain, she turned off the water and wrapped herself in a towel. She accidentally stepped in front of a mirror, and gasped.

Who was this woman? She was pale, her cheekbones sunken. Her eyes no longer held life. Her lips were cracked and her body was covered in scars. Now, seeing herself as others did, she was horrified.

How could they love her anymore? She was so obviously worthless.

She managed to tear her eyes away from the mirror, but when she did she realized she had no clothes. She could not put back on her clothing she had worn in the desert. She knew she could not, the purpose of the shower would be completely defeated. Taking a deep breath, she hung up the towel and went out of the bathroom.

She hated being naked. It brought back memories that she tried so hard to bury. It made her feel exposed and vulnerable.

She decided that she should remain naked for that reason. She deserved to suffer.

Shaking, she pulled back the comforter and laid down on the bed, flicking off the lamp. The room was engulfed in complete darkness. She shivered and pulled the comforter around her wounded body, curling up into a ball. She knew she should forgo the blankets and force herself to suffer through the night cold, exposed, and scared. But she simply couldn't. She was only human. Nothing seemed better to her right now than a good night's sleep. She couldn't deny herself all of the good things in life. She had already refused food. She knew that she had to drink water, but she could go a long while without food. It would painful and torturous, she knew that from experience, but she deserved nothing less. She hadn't eaten since they got back, and she planned to keep it that way for at least two more days. Food was a luxury she was not worthy of.

That, and so many other things.

They had come too soon. They had saved her too soon.

She does not deserve food. She does not deserve clothes. She does not deserve to be loved!

Lying there, completely naked in a bed that was not hers, in a place that was not her own, without even clothes on her back to her name, she realized something.

She truly had nothing. She had nothing left in this world.

Nothing at all.

TBC

A/N: sorry if Ziva seems a little... Masochistic. But if you even read this you know why.

This was originally going to be a What Could Have Been installment, called What Could Have Been- Truth or Consequences (the fact that there could even be a WCHB for that Epi says a lot, huh?) but I wanted it to be more than one chapter.

Please review! There will be more comfort in the chapters to come. This was mostly hurt.

Leave a review if u think I should continue!


	2. Worth

_He got off of her, leaving her a bloody and sobbing mess on the floor. She had promised herself that she would not scream, would not cry, would not react when he..._

_She couldn't even think the word. She was so damn weak. _

_She hadn't stuck to her promise. The pain, the humiliation, the horror, had seemed to smack into her all at once with full force, and her resolve was shattered. Who cares if she cried? Who cares if she screamed? What was there to gain by staying silent?_

_Her body curling into a fetal position trying to protect all vital parts of her aching body from the kicks and punches being rained down on her sore body._

"_Filthy Jew bitch. You little slut," he taunted her, spitting on her before turning and retreating._

_An uncontrollable sob ripped through her body. She tried to remember that it was her fault this was happening. This was karma working it's magic. What goes around comes around. She is paying for her sins._

_But knowing that she deserved this did not take away the agony. She knew in that moment that she was broken. She was broken beyond repair. She was like Humpty-Dumpty. All the king's horses and all the king's men could not put her back together again._

_She doubted anyone could. _

_She shook with another sob as she realized that no one would ever try. Even if she got out of this alive, she had nowhere to go. Mossad would ship her off to another mission. They would not care that she had no spirit left, no will to live. NCIS... that was out of the question. They hated her. She left them. She is unlovable. She is not worthy of anyone's attention._

_She is even lowlier than a stupid broken egg. At least people _tried _to put Humpty-Dumpty back together. No one could put her back together, but no one would try. She was not worthy of their time. _

_A tear dripped off her cheek and landed in the pool of blood beneath her._

_It felt like it had only been a couple minutes when the door opened again._

_She did not know this man. He had lust in his eyes as he stalked towards her, and kicked her in the stomach. She grunted._

"_Rumor is you're a good lay. What do you say you gimme a little taste, whore?" the man sneered, squatting down beside her naked and bruised body. She just stared ahead, an empty expression on her face._

_She no longer cared anymore._

_She tried to stay distant as he climbed on top of her, but as soon as she felt the pain her eyes widened and she suppressed a scream._

"_You like that?" he taunted, twisting her nipples painfully. She whimpered, and tried desperately to get him off. But it was no use. She screamed as the pain hit her again._

_He laughed._

…

Tony woke, unable to recall what woke him. It had been a noise, he knew that much, so he perked up his ears and hoped whatever it was would sound again. He felt a tugging in his gut that told him something was wrong.

And then he heard it. A faint scream, coming from the other side of the wall.

_Ziva's_ side.

He jumped out of bed and grabbed the extra room key he had gotten for Ziva's room and his gun, and as fast as he could he went outside and unlocked her door.

He was startled to find that she was asleep. But it was a restless sleep. She had clearly been tossing about, and the comforter was strewn about so that her naked torso laid bare. Part of her leg was exposed, and Tony could tell she had slept without clothes.

_Dammit!_ He cursed himself. Why didn't he think to get her some clothes?

Normally, Tony would have stayed for a while to enjoy the view. The _old_ Tony would have done that. But he didn't care that she was naked. He ran to her, sitting on the edge of the bed. He slowly reached forward, gently putting his hand on her cheek, stroking it comfortingly and whispering, "Shh, Ziva. It's okay. Wake up... shhh." 

She let out a whimper of what sounded to Tony like fear. The noise seemed to grip his heard and wrench it. It hurt seeing her in pain.

He tried to ignore the crescent-shaped bite marks on her breast and the red scars the decorated her torso as he placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Ziva!" he called, realizing the soft assurances wouldn't wake her up. She simply groaned. "ZIVA!" he yelled. She gasped and her eyes flew open, her head looking around wildly. When she noticed Tony, she was relieved at first, but then remembered her state of undress, and blushed madly, sitting up and quickly covering herself back up. She propped herself up on her arm and glared at him.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.

"Ziva... are you alright?" he asked. She looked away.

"You should leave me alone, Tony," she whispered. She did not want him to care about her. It would make this penance all the more difficult.

"Oh, Ziva," he said, softly, reaching up to caress her face softly again, but she jerked away and glared at him.

"Do not touch me," she told him. His hand withdrew immediately.

"Ziva..." he said, obviously hurt.

"Why are you here? Peeping on me in my sleep?" she asked, bitterly. Tony's eyebrows furrowed.

"I would never-"

"I know that."

"I've seen you naked before, Zee-VAH. It's really _not_ a big deal," he assured her.

"I do not like being exposed, Tony. You should not have to see this," she said, gesturing to her scarred torso. He shook his head.

"You are still as beautiful as ever, Ziva," he assured her. She snorted.

"Sure," she laughed without any ounce of humor. "You should not be here. You should not be near me. I am not deserving of your love. I am broken, more broken than you could ever imagine. You do not need to be near me," she told him. Tony was speechless.

"Ziva... what is wrong with you? You are doubting your beauty, both inside and out, and for some reason you think I won't want to be near you? Please, Ziva."

"Oh, come on, Tony! Who could love this?" she cried, dropping the sheet covering chest. She was surprised when Tony's eyes never left hers and he didn't even look at her exposed and marred breasts. The Tony she knew would have.

"I don't care how scarred you are, none of us do!"

"You do not get it, do you?" she exclaimed, "I am a terrible person. I have killed people, I have tortured people, I have scarred people for life. I do not deserve to live, and yet somehow I remain alive! I must pay the price for my sins, Tony, I know that now. That had to have been what Somalia was. Why, Tony? Why did you have to save me?" she cried, falling back onto her back.

"Because we love you," he told her, in the most sincere voice Ziva had ever heard. She shook her head vigorously.

"No, Tony. Do not say that," she told him, "If you knew half the things I had done..." 

"I know you have done some things in your life you aren't proud of. But, Ziva, you don't have to torture yourself. Have you even touched the pain pills?" he asked, his eyebrows raised.

"I deserve the pain-"

"_Ziva_. Please. You do not deserve what they did to you. They are evil bastards-" 

"But, Tony, do you not get it? That was _me!_ I was the person who tortured mercilessly to get what I wanted!"

"Eli told you to do it. He is your father. You trusted him with your life, and he used that trust to his advantage and made you do terrible things."

"Tony, just please let me do this. Please let me suffer my punishment and do not interfere," she practically begged. Tony frowned.

"What are you talking about?" 

"I am talking about my penance!"

"What are you going to do?" Tony asked, alarm evident in his voice.

"Finish what Saleem started," Ziva told him. He noted the way she was eying his sidearm. His eyes widened.

"Ziva! How could you even _consider that!_ We've just got you back! You are going to take yourself away from us?"

"You deserve better than this broken, violated, ugly, mess of a woman," she cried. He grabbed her shoulders, turning her his way.

"_Ziva._ Please. Listen to me. We. Love. You. What's broken can be fixed. You are _still_ and _always will be _beautiful, and you are not a mess... but as for violated... Ziva..." he said, his voice dropping to a whisper in the end as he decided he could no longer ignore the evidence in front of him. She practically admitted it, plus the scars, and common sense... it all added up to one thing.

"Exactly. Even _you_ are disgusted. I have been stripped of my dignity, my pride... no man will ever want me again," she threw back at him. He placed a soft kiss on her cheek, catching her off guard. She gasped.

"Tony... you should not touch me. I am not worthy-"

"Don't give me any of that 'worthy' crap. You do not deserve to suffer. You do not deserve pain. You deserve love, and care, and _you deserve to be happy_. Please do not doubt your worth, Ziva. You are worth the world to me, to us, and so much more," he assured her. She bit her lip.

"I do not believe you," she told him, sadly.

"I will spend the rest of my life proving to you how much you are worth to us. We have time, Ziva. For the mean time, just take the pain pills," Tony told her. She sighed.

"Fine, I will take the damn pills," she mumbled. Tony smiled triumphantly.

"That's my girl," he told her, and got up to get her the pill bottle, "I will have Abby get you some clothes, okay?"

"Ok," she replied, somewhat timidly. She swallowed the pills, and soon she felt the pain soothing and she suddenly became very sleepy. She drifted calmly off to sleep, for once not caring what tomorrow would bring.

Tony watched as her eyelids drooped and heard her breathing even out. He smiled triumphantly, before lying down next to her and wrapping his arm around her scarily-skinny torso. He pulled her close to him, reveling in the fact that she was here. She was alive, and even though she was broken, he was determined to put her back together again. He would give her a reason to live. Why?

Because he cared. And no matter what she seemed to think, he knew she was worthy of his love.

He knew he would prove it to her if it was the last thing he did.

A/N: sorry if this sucked.

Please review! I really appreciate all the great reviews and alerts I got for the first chapter! You guys make my day, truly u do!

And for those of you following Innocence Corrupted, next chapter is halfway done. Sorry for the wait.


	3. Love

Tony's eyes fluttered open when he felt the warm sun on his face. He smiled when he realized where he was, and who he was with.

Anthony "Sex Machine" DiNozzo was not a stranger to waking up in a strange bed, next to a naked woman. But never before had the situation been quite like this one.

Her head was resting on his torso, her chest rising and falling slowly. She looked so peaceful. Her arm was casually slung over his waist and his was around her shoulders, keeping her next to him.

He frowned upon remembering what had happened last night, though. All the events seemed to come back to him in a matter of seconds as he was reminded that his ninja was not well. She was not well at all.

It hurt him to think of all the pain she must be in. From last night, Tony was able to get a pretty good picture of her current psyche. He didn't want her to feel like this, like she is worthless. Right now, she is worth more to him than any other thing in the world. After going two months thinking she was dead, he wanted to spend every waking moment with her. The non-waking ones wouldn't hurt either.

He wanted this moment to never end.

Sadly, he knew it was too good to be true. She began to stir, and her eyes opened a few seconds later. She sat straight up when she realized what was going on.

"Um, Abby stopped by and left some clothes here earlier," he said, breaking the awkward silence. He had assumed that was what happened, upon seeing the stack of clothing near the wall. Ziva nodded, getting up from the bed to put the clothing on. Tony politely averted his eyes. When she finished, Tony got out of the bed and straightened out his clothes. He had run home yesterday while Ziva was being examined to get a change of clothes for himself. He was glad he had.

"I'm going to go into NCIS. Are you going to come with me?" he asked, noticing the late hour and praying to God that Gibbs wouldn't be too hard on him.

She nodded.

"Okay, well... come on..." he said, trailing off, and leading her out of the door. She followed obediently.

Wait a minute. Obedient? Ziva?

Tony shook it off. She would be different for a while, he knew that.

He would just have to help her through this.

…

_Three Weeks Later_...

Ziva sat at her desk, staring ahead blankly. She hadn't said a word all day. She barely talked anymore. She barely said a word.

"Ziva, hey, you okay?" he asked, walking up to her. She nodded.

"Can you go get an update from Abby?" Tony asked. Ziva stood and walked to the elevator, the only indication that she had even heard him.

When Ziva arrived in Abby's lab, she was assaulted by loud music and the smell of Caf-Pow. She hated being in Abby's lab. The smell made her want to retch. She would have thrown up if there was anything in her stomach to regurgitate.

"Ziva! Hey! I was just finishing up the tox-screen. I was going to head up there myself, actually, you see our petty officer died of..." Abby trailed on, but Ziva didn't hear. She could no longer ignore the pain, the heavy feeling of her limbs, the miserable and completely spent way her body was feeling. She could no longer even find the strength to stand up.

Everything went black around her.

…

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

The stupid beeping would not go away. She knew that beeping. She hated that beeping. That beeping, combined with the overwhelming smell of bleach...

Hospital.

She frowned. Why was she in a hospital?

"Ziva? Are you awake?" came a voice. She opened her eyes, and everything came into focus.

"Gibbs?" she asked, groggily.

"Yeah, I'm here, Ziver," he told her.

"What... what happened?" she inquired. Gibbs frowned.

"Ziva... you passed out in Abby's lab. The doctors say it's from severe malnutrition. Ziva, when was the last time you ate?" he asked, a hint of anger in his voice. Ziva bit her lip.

"I do not remember... I had a granola bar a week ago," she told him. Anger and disbelief filled his eyes.

"Ziva! What is wrong with you? Why would you do that?"

"Gibbs... you came too soon," she told him.

"Excuse me?"

"You saved me too soon."

"What the hell are you talking about, Ziver?"

"I haven't suffered nearly enough for my sins, Gibbs. Not nearly enough," she told him. His eyes narrowed.

"So that's what this is all about? Some misguided attempt to atone for your sins?"

"Somalia happened for a reason. This is what they call karma, yes?"

"Ziva, you don't starve yourself! Do you realize you almost died? You've been in a coma for three days, dammit!" he yelled. She flinched, and Gibbs instantly felt guilty.

"Three... three days?" she asked, unbelieving.

"Tony told me what you told him that night at the Navy Lodge. Ziver, we love you. We don't care how broken you are, you have to know that. We will always treasure you and protect you, Ziver. But we can't protect you from yourself. Don't take yourself away from us, Ziver."

Ziva looked at him in disbelief.

"You can not _possibly_ mean that," she told him.

"Well I do. We love you, Ziver. What's it going to take to make you realize we are telling you the truth?" he asked, exasperated. She bit her lip and smiled a little.

"I do believe you, Gibbs. I just don't understand why... I am filthy, disgusting, worthless..."

"You are worth so much to us. Never forget that," he told her, placing a kiss to her forehead.

And for the first time in months, Ziva smiled.

A/N: I hope this was okay. There is more to come:)


	4. Pale

Tony sat in the hospital waiting room, his head in his hands. He was trying to hard to think, to make sense of this situation, but he simply couldn't. The pain he felt was incredible. He had been wallowing in guilt for the past three days. He hadn't left the hospital since she was brought in.

If only he had noticed! He's her partner, he's supposed to have her back! How did he not notice she had stopped eating? How did he not realize his partner had been starving herself? Why the hell would she do that?

He knew why, in his heart. She was in pain. He knew that if she wanted to kill herself she would have done it countless of other ways. She wasn't suicidal.

She was simply the most guilt-ridden person Tony had ever met.

What if she didn't wake up? She was so malnutritioned when they brought her in two days ago, there was actually a possibility that she wouldn't survive this. The possibility was not high, about a ten percent chance, but it was a chance nonetheless, and Tony didn't like it.

He sighed as he remembered what happened three days ago.

_Gibbs' desk phone rang, interrupting the silence in the bullpen. Tony and McGee were working hard to track a suspect, and the voice that came from the receiver was so loud it could be heard throughout the bullpen. _

"_Gibbs! You need to get down here! Ziva's passed out, she just... passed out! And, oh god, Gibbs... her shirt rid up when she fell, she's so skinny! I can see every single rib, and her face is so damn pale! She's so thin, and she looks like she's dead! I've seen corpses in better condition, well you know, besides the dead part-" Abby rambled. Gibbs cut her off.  
><em>

"_Abs, call an ambulance. We will be right down to get her. Just stay calm, Abs, it's all going to be okay," Gibbs replied, trying to stay calm for her sake. But the second he slammed the phone down, he was already running across the bullpen, Tony and McGee leaping up and following. They took the stairs two at a time, not bothering with the elevator. It was too time consuming. They arrived at Abby's lab, panting, and encountered a pale and sweating Ziva passed out on the floor, Abby kneeling next to her, stroking her cold face. Abby was shaking._

"_Gibbs, EMS is on the way," she said, standing up. Gibbs wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as tears escaped her eyes, her mascara running. _

…

"_Family of Ziva David?" a doctor asked, as he entered the waiting room. The entire team stood up._

"_Dah-veed," they corrected at once._

"_What's wrong with her?" Tony asked at once, terrified that she might not be okay._

"_Miss David is severely malnutritioned. She has a vitamin D deficiency, which indicates that she recently spent a lot of time without exposure to the sunlight. It also seems she has gone a dangerously long while without food."_

"_But is she going to be okay?" Tony inquired, urgency in his voice._

"_Right now she has a 90% chance of survival, which is very good. She has slipped into a coma, and until her body has enough vitamins replenished she won't wake up," the doctor explained._

_Tony gave a sigh of relief._

…

Tony heard talking from within the hospital room, and his head perked up. He jumped up, suddenly filled with hope. He walked over to the room, and opened the door. Inside was a smiling Ziva and Gibbs standing over her.

"Ziva," he said. Upon seeing her, he smiled widely.

"Tony," she replied. Gibbs stepped out of the room, giving them a moment alone.

"What happened?" he asked, even though he knew the answer.

"I... I stopped eating," she confessed, going for the simple answer.

"Why would you do that, Ziva? Why would you do that to us?" he asked. She looked confused.

"What are you talking about-?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about, Ziva! How could you think that if you killed yourself then you would be the only person you would hurt? Can you imagine how we would feel?"

"I was not trying to kill myself..." she trailed off. Tony shook his head.

"It doesn't matter if you were _trying_ to or not. You almost did."

"I... I just want this _guilt_ to go away!"

"Please, Ziva, stop hating yourself. What is done is done. Starving yourself as some twisted method of penance will do no good. You have suffered far more than any person ever should have to. You deserve love, you deserve happiness. How many times will I have to say it for you to believe it?"

"I do not know," she replied, softly. Tony raised his hand and gently stroked her cheek.

"You're gonna be okay. We will always be there for you, to help you and watch over you," Tony promised. Ziva gave a small smile.

"Thank you," she said, gratefulness shining in her eyes.

"We love you. Please don't do anything to ever take yourself away from us ever again," he practically begged. She nodded.

"I promise, Tony."

…

"Excuse me, Miss David?" someone said, from the doorway. Tony and Ziva looked up.

"Yes?" It was the doctor, Dr. Deane.

"Miss David, we were going over your blood work again, and we noticed something..." the doctor said.

"Just spit it out! Is it an infection, an STD, what?"

"Miss David, would you like Mr. DiNozzo to step out?"

"No! I just want you to tell me what the hell is wrong with me!" Ziva fumed, her patience.

"Miss David... there is nothing wrong with you. We have found a high concentration of human chorionic gonadotropin in your blood, or hCG," the doctor said, a smile on his face. Ziva's eyes widened.

"I am... pregnant?"

A/N: I hope this wasn't horribly cliché. This _so_ was not going to happen! It was going to be like... a 4 chapter thing. I predict many more chapters in the future, now!

Please tell me what you think, and how you stand on this new twist:) and if I got anything wrong, medically, do tell me so I can make it as accurate as possible.


	5. Penance

Ziva felt sick. Sick to her stomach. All this time, she had been carrying _their_ spawn? All this time, there had been something of _theirs_ inside of her, feeding on her, like a parasite! No wonder she could not get clean! They are still there!

Her first thought is automatic. Abortion. Simple as that. Kill the creature that dared to house itself inside of her. Kill it, because it was one of _them_. It was a child of rape, a child of pain, a child of despair. It had come to exist while she could barely even keep _herself_ alive.

Her second thought followed almost immediately after. She could not kill it. She knows, in her mind, that the fetus is innocent. It was not its fault that it had come to exist. But she doesn't want to think about it like that like_ it_ is a person. It is not. It is not even human. _Yet._

Ziva knew she couldn't get an abortion, but not for the reason most people do. She knew that _this_ was her fate. _This_ was her punishment, this was the last puzzle piece to completing her penance.

She was going to have to carry this fetus. She was going to have to give birth to a child she hated. She was going to have to raise that same child, and look into its eyes every morning and see _him,_ and know she could never love that child, ever, because of what it was. A monster.

A tear slipped down her cheek as she was brought back from thought.

Tony was frozen in the same position, unable to move, unable to think of anything but the fact that Ziva was pregnant.

"Miss David?" the doctor said, trying to get some response from her.

"I... I..." she stuttered, as another tear escaped her eye. She wiped away at it furiously. She would not cry. _This was her penance_.

"This isn't a good time, she's in shock, Doc. Come back later?" Tony suggested. The doctor nodded, fully understanding.

"If you choose to keep the baby," the doctor began, and Ziva winced at the word. She had been avoiding saying it or even thinking it ever since she found out. Saying baby made it seem too close, too personal. _Too innocent,_ "We are going to have to get you an ultrasound, and make sure it is in full health. With your recent lack of nutrition and nourishment, it is quite possible the baby is at risk," he finished. Ziva nodded.

"I have already decided to not get an abortion. I will not kill the fetus," she said, her eyes not looking away fro the spot in space she had been staring at. Dr. Deane nodded, and stepped out.

Tony went to go sit by her on the bed, careful of all the IV tubes. He wrapped her in a large hug, trying to comfort her, but she pushed him away.

"No."

"No?" he asked, confused and hurt.

"You do not have to pretend like you still like me, like you still hold me in high regards. I know what you think of me, Tony. I can see it in your eyes," she said, turning away from him.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, the pain obvious in his voice. He longed to hold her, comfort her, save her from her demons. But she would not let him.

"I can see the... the_ disgust_ in your eyes! You will never look at me the same way again, ever! You do not need to pretend that I am still worth anything in your eyes," she replied. Tony could hear the heartbreak in her voice.

"Ziva David, you listen to me _right now_. I will never think you are worthless, _ever!_ I am not disgusted with you! I am disgusted with Saleem and his sorry excuses for men that did this to you! I am disgusted that somebody dared to hurt you like that. I mean, I knew it had happened, but when I found out for sure, that night at the Navy Lodge... I believed it but it was never really... I never really confronted the fact that they raped you," he said. Ziva hissed at the use of the word.

"Tony..."

"And then today... we find out they impregnated you... and now I realize that I have to face it. I have actually consider the fact that they did that to you. It happened, to _you_, my invincible ninja. The thought nearly breaks my heart-"

"I am not invincible, Tony. I am not perfect. I let that happen to me, when I should have fought harder-"

Tony grabbed her arm, pulling her close to him and enveloping her in a hug. She fought at first, but she eventually relaxed into it.

"Ziva. You did not allow this to happen. Why would you? I know you fought!"

"I did not always fight, Tony! They would only feed me if I... pleasured them... and did it! I was so weak! I couldn't go a freaking week without food, and so I gave in..." she trailed off, her voice cracking. Tears ran down her face.

"Is that what this was about? This little fast you did?"

"I was not strong enough..."

"No, Ziva. You listen to me. You will stay healthy. You will survive, you will take care of yourself. You got it?" he asked, as he pulled her away from him so he could look into her eyes.

Her lip started to quiver, and she began to sob. Unrelenting, heart wrenching sobs that wracked her abnormally tiny frame.

And he knew she was not okay. She was far from okay. No matter what she said, how much she denied it, he knew she was hurting. She was in agony.

A/N: Please review! I don't have much time, but thanks to all the reviews from last time. Tell me what you thought of this! Was it good? Bad? Horrid?


	6. Past

_Two weeks later_...

She sat at her desk, tapping her pencil against the keyboard. It was a slow day, there were no current cases. Gibbs had them going over cold cases, as if they could actually catch a break in one of them. She hated working cold cases, it made her somewhat sad. Knowing that the victim of the crime has not gotten and probably will never get closure makes her feel like NCIS has failed. The evidence was too old for most of it to be worth anything useful. Even the best investigator was at a disadvantage, when it came to cold cases.

Tony was sitting at his desk, playing with an app from McGee's iPhone, which he had nabbed from the Junior Agent's desk in his absence. In another life, Ziva would be harassing Tony for that. Tony would be spitballing at her, and she would be threatening him with bodily harm.

Before Somalia, maybe. But not now. Too much had changed. It would be a while before she was comfortable enough to return to their playful banter.

She had been damned to desk duty until the doctor cleared her for field work. Even then, it would be short lived. She had promised Gibbs that she would stay on desk duty once she hit the third trimester of her pregnancy.

Gibbs came down the stairs from the catwalk, and entered the bullpen, head slapping Tony on the way in.

"Thanks, Boss," Tony said, almost automatically.

"Get back to work, DiNozzo," Gibbs chastised.

"Right, Boss," he replied.

"And put McGee's phone back," he added. Sighing, Tony stood up and walked to McGee's desk.

"Did you know little Probie has his self help CDs downloaded on this thing! And get this! They are in the top 25 most played!" Tony chuckled. His words were directed at Ziva, but he really wasn't expecting an answer. She had been fairly unresponsive for the last few weeks. Tony only could imagine what she was going through, though. So he left her alone to come out of her shell on her own.

The elevator behind them dinged, and a man who looked to be in his mid forties stepped out. He didn't have a beard, but his face wasn't exactly clean-shaven. His black eyes had an intensity that seemed to rival Gibbs'. A red scar ran down his right cheek.

"Excuse me?" the man said, in a heavily accented voice. All three agents stood and turned around. Tony raised his eyebrows, and Gibbs' eyes narrowed. But Ziva's reaction was one that no one was expecting.

She gasped audibly, and seemed frozen where she was.

"Officer David?" the man asked, seeming as shocked and Ziva was. His eyes were widened as far as they could go, surprise and something unreadable written across his face.

Gibbs thought that it resembled fear.

Ziva snapped out of her shock-induced trance, and bolted from the room. She ran behind the steps, punching the button on the elevator viciously and desperately. She needed to get away. This could not be happening! Especially not now!

Tony and Gibbs both looked from the place where Ziva had disappeared to the man standing before them.

"You know her?" Gibbs asked, when he finally found his voice. The man nodded.

"I guess you could say that..." the man trailed off, but did not look away from the spot where Ziva had disappeared. He began to walk in that direction, determined to catch her, all his previously shock and fear gone. He found her entering the elevator, jabbing the "door close" button as if her life depended on it. When she saw him running towards her, she hit it harder. He slid between the doors right as they were about to shut. Ziva cursed.

The doors closed the rest of the way, and the man hit the emergency stop switch. The elevator groaned to a stop, and the elevator was illuminated in blue. They were assaulted by an awkward silence. Neither of them knew what to say.

Finally, he broke the silence.

"I have to say, it was a surprise to see you here, David," he told her. She remained silent, just stared ahead, her haunted gaze boring into the elevator doors.

"It has been a long time," he said, after receiving nothing but silence. She still did not say anything.

"Are you going to say _anything _to me?" he asked her.

"I do not know what to say, Marco," she replied, in a small voice. The man smirked.

"I was not aware we were on a first name basis, considering I do not know yours," he replied.

"Ziva," she replied, simply.

"Ziva. Quite the Israeli name," he replied.

"Yes," she agreed, still staring at the same spot on the door.

"What happened to you?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she inquired.

"Last time I saw you, you were _not_ this mild mannered," he said, chuckling a little. Her expression did not change.

"People change," she replied, in a soft voice.

"Exactly. But people change for a reason. So I will ask again: what happened to you?" he pressed. She shook her head.

"It is none of your business."

"It is my business," he replied.

"How?"

"Because I think I deserve to know what happened to the Ziva David who tortured me ruthlessly. I think you owe me that much."

A/N: Cliffy. I know. I'm evil. So tell me what you think is going on! I purposely am making this "Marco" character shady. This is the first time I have ever really written a character where we don't know who he is or what his past with Ziva is. Normally I go right out and say it. But I am trying a new, more mysterious approach! So tell me what you think! Please? The NCIS gods want you to... plus the new epi premieres in 23 minutes. I'm not all that psyched, to be honest. Seems like a regular case! But if there is tiva dynamic then I don't really care.

Am I the only one who thinks that it takes a very beautiful woman like Cote de Pablo to pull off a jumpsuit and make it look good? Just saying. I envy her looks:/


	7. Forgiveness

"She does not exist, anymore," Ziva replied, sadly.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Marco scoffed.

"I do not know who I am," she said, a tear sliding down her cheek.

"You have changed... dramatically," he observed, "You don't have any self confidence left."

"I do not know what you are talking about-"

"I can see it in your eyes. The misery," he told her. She frowned. "Ziva... what happened to you?"

"Why? Why do you care about me? You should hate me! You should be yelling at me, screaming, hitting me, telling me what a terrible person I am... You should not care!" she yelled at him, finally turning and looking him in the eye.

He saw something in her eyes, something farmiliar. He didn't know why he wasn't mad at her, but he simply could not hold a grudge against her. He was terrible at holding grudges, anyway. And she seemed to be remorseful. She was no longer the woman who had ruthlessly tortured him, trying to get him to give up his team. She was no longer the woman who had crushed every bone in his foot, or gave him the scar on his cheek. He took a deep breath.

"I care because that's the kind of person I am. And you seem... regretful..."

"And that's enough for you to forgive me?" she asked, skeptically. Marco could detect the hope in her voice.

"I did not say I forgive you," he reminded her.

"Good! You shouldn't!"

"Why are you being so hard on yourself?" he asked her.

"Because I do not deserve forgiveness!" she yelled at him, before leaning against the wall to steady herself. She looked away from him, and at the floor.

"Someone hurt you," he observed, "Someone really hurt you."

"They took everything from me. They took my happiness, my dignity, my love for life... I have nothing," she replied, the sadness in her voice making his eyes water.

"You are alive. That's something."

"There are times I wish I am not," she told him, practically in a whisper.

"Who? Who did this to you?" he asked, reaching out to place his hand on her shoulder. She flinched, and immediately withdrew his hand.

"My father," she replied. His eyes widened.

"You father?" he inquired.

"Well, it wasn't him directly. He sent me there, left me there..."

"Why don't you tell the story from the beginning?" he suggested. Ziva bit her lip.

"I would rather not..."

"You owe me," he reminded her. She sighed.

"Four years ago, my father, the Director of Mossad sent me to America to become a liaison with NCIS," she told him, skipping the whole Ari fiasco. That was not important. He raised his eyebrows.

"You father is the director?" he asked. She nodded.

"The woman you knew... the one who... tortured you... she was not Ziva David. I realize that now. The woman you knew was the perfect soldier my father had created. He raised me to do what he wanted, when he wanted it, no matter if it went against every fiber of my being. Eventually... I just stopped feeling," she explained, "I thought that, in my father's eyes, I was a queen in his chess game of a life. I know now that, when the big picture is taken into account, I was nothing but a pawn to him. I was disposable," she told him, a tear sliding down her cheek, "He sent me to America, to forge bonds with NCIS and Mossad. I was given a position on the Major Case Response Team. I grew... fond... of them. And I daresay they grew fond of me. For once in my life, I actually began to trust somebody. Then, last spring, Tony, my partner, killed my Mossad boyfriend. Michael had been using me, but I did not see it at the time. I left NCIS, and went back to Mossad, to Israel.

"My father sent me on a mission, taking Michael's place on the Kidon Unit," she informed him.

"Assassinations?"

"Yes."

"Who were you assassinating?"

"Saleem Ulman," she replied, in a soft voice. Marco's eyes widened.

"Ulman? Damn," he said, chuckling a little, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"We were to get there by a Jordanian freight ship. On the way there, the crew turned on us, on my team. We killed them all, losing one and injuring the other two. Once we scuttled it, made it to land in Mogadishu, my father gave us orders to continue, regardless. I went alone, to the camp. They captured me... and you know the rest," she ended.

"They tortured you," he said. It was not a question. She nodded.

"They broke me," she told him, another tear falling from her face. He reached out and took her chin int his hand, making her look at him. Her wet eyes were full of pain.

"And now?" he asked.

"Now, I have been clinically diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder, I'm pregnant with my captor's child, I'm overwhelmed with guilt... and I do not want to live," she told him. He gasped.

"They got you pregnant? Oh, god..." he exclaimed, and pulled her into a hug. She, surprisingly, hugged back, the tears coming faster now. "Why not abort it?" he asked her.

"I can not kill it," she told him.

"Why?"

"I deserve to have to suffer through this. This is my penance," she told him. He hugged her tighter.

"I forgive you," he told her, spontaneously. She pulled away, surprised.

"You... you _what?"_

"I forgive you," he repeated. She looked at him like he was crazy.

"How? How the hell could you forgive me for what I did-"

"You feel remorse. And you have suffered enough. I forgive you," he told her, wiping the tear from her face. But more came, this time from happiness. She felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She buried her face in his shoulder again.

"Thank you," she cried gratefully, "I am so, so sorry for everything I ever did to you. So sorry," she muttered.

"Shh. All if forgiven," he assured her.

And Ziva felt free.

A/N: sooo... what did you think? Tell me tell me tell me! Thanks so much to pirate-princess1, Liraeyn, NazChick, .ink, "Tiva lovah", Zivafan2481, and GrassyNight for reviewing. Each one means so much:)


	8. Taken

Gibbs and Tony looked up as they heard the elevator ding. After a few seconds, the man and Ziva came into view. Ziva's eyes were puffy and red. She had been crying.

Tony's eyes narrowed. That man had made Ziva cry.

He ran forward, taking her in his arms and pulling her away from the man, holding her protectively.

"What did he do to you?" he asked, wiping away a stray tear. He shot a murderous glare at the man, who was looking at him with a confused look on his face.

"Nothing, Tony, he did nothing," she denied, trying to pull away from him.

"He made you cry, ninja," he said, in a hurt voice.

"It is nothing, Tony-"

"It's _something_ and you know it!" he insisted.

"My past came back to haunt me, that is all," she replied.

"If he is haunting you, Ziva, I will take him out in a second-" Tony murmured. She shook her head furiously.

"No. It was not his fault. If anything, he should be mad at me. It is fine, really. I do not want to talk about it," she assured him.

"Ziva... You can trust me," he whispered, urgently. Her eyes narrowed.

"It is in the past, Tony! I said I do not want to talk about it!" she cried, jerking away from him.

"I have your six, Ziva, no matter what. And if something is going on-"

"Nothing is going on!"

"Something is wrong and you know it!" he insisted.

"I tortured him, okay!" she yelled, furious that he pushed her so far.

"You... you _what_?" Tony asked, incredulous. He didn't know what he was expecting, but it _wasn't_ that.

"I tortured him! I gave him that scar! I am the reason he walks with a limp! I am the reason! I did it!" she yelled. Tony's eyes widened.

"Ziva..." he trailed off. He didn't know what to say.

"See? You are disgusted! I told you! I told you I deserved what they did to me in Somalia! I should be dead, I deserve to be dead! I shouldn't be here with you, all... happy! I should not be forgiven for this!" she cried, speaking to the man now, as well. The man looked shocked.

"Ziva, I forgive you-"

"But you _shouldn't_!" she cried a tear rolling down her cheek, "You just shouldn't," she said, quietly this time.

"Why not? Don't you want to be forgiven?"

"I do! But I know that I should not be! What I did to you was unforgivable! I know that! And while I may be suffering the penance," she said, gesturing to her larger-than-normal abdomen, "I do not believe that even that will earn me forgiveness."

"That child... is not penance. That child is a _gift_, Ziver," Gibbs said, entering the conversation.

"No! This... this fetus is a curse!"

"No. It is a beautiful gift. It is an innocent life, Ziva. It was created even in the midst of all your suffering. It is a sign that you came out of your ordeal more than you were when you went in. You have a life, growing inside of you-"

"A life that is partially _him!_"

"And partially _you!_ This baby is _part of you!_ It is growing inside of you, living inside of you! It is living off _your life_-"

"Yes, the fetus is living off me _like a parasite_!" she shot back at Gibbs.

"No. Ziver, this is your baby. It doesn't matter how it was conceived, or who it's father was. It is still _your child_."

"It will be evil-"

"It's not going to be some demon baby, Ziva," Marco assured her, "It will be innocent and cute and chubby. It will be the most precious thing in the world to you."

"What do you know about children?" Ziva asked.

"I have a daughter... actually that's why I'm here. My daughter... Agent Gibbs my daughter might have been kidnapped," Marco said.

"Why do you think that?" Gibbs asked.

"My wife is a Naval Petty Officer, Agent Gibbs. She is working on highly sensitive projects. She has been getting death threats lately, and... well yesterday my seventeen year old daughter didn't come home from school," he said.

"Why didn't you report it?" 

"I told the police, but since she hasn't been missing for 48 hours, they said there was nothing they could do..." he trailed off, a pained look in his eyes. Gibbs recognized that look. That look had stared back at him in the mirror more than twenty years ago. It was the look of a terrified father.

"We will help you," Gibbs agreed.

"Thank you, Agent Gibbs, thank you," Marco said, looking relieved.

"Where is your wife?"

"At home, calling as many people as she can to try to locate Micaela," Marco told them.

"Ok. Where does your daughter go to school?" Tony asked, now in full-fledged investigator mode.

Ziva had zoned out. She was thinking about this Micaela. If her math was right, then when she had held Marco captive and tortured him, he had had a daughter. A two year old daughter. She had almost taken a little girl's father away from him. She had been given orders to kill him, and instead had convinced her father to let him go. Now, she was so glad she did. She knew what it was like to grow up without a father.

Ziva suddenly became very dedicated to finding this Micaela.

Marco's cell phone rang, and he flipped it open automatically.

"DiCello," he answered.

"Hello, Mr. DiCello," a deep voice answered. Marco's eyes widened.

"What do you want?" he asked, putting it on speaker. Gibbs signaled for McGee to start the trace.

"I want information. If you don't give me what I want, she will suffer," the ominous voice said. He heard a muffled voice in the background.

"What have you done with her?" Marco asked in a furious voice.

"Why don't you ask her yourself," the voice said, and he chuckled, before the Team and Marco heard the sound of duct tape being ripped off skin.

"Daddy!" came a pained cry.

"Mickey? Mickey, honey, it's all going to be okay," Marco tried to tell her.

"Daddy... Daddy help me!" she cried. They heard the sound of what had to be a whip striking flesh. They heard an agonized scream. Another crack, and another scream.

"Tell your wife she has an hour to transfer all the intel to the email address I have texted you, or you get another call like this. And I won't go so easy next time," the man said, cruelty in his voice. There was another scream, which was cut off by the man on the other end hanging up the phone.

Marco sank to his knees, staring at an empty spot in the space in front of him, a painful look in his eyes.

"We will find her," Ziva assured him.

"I hope so, Ziva. I hope so."

A/N: Sorry this took so long! Tell me what you thought, please! You guys are so great, and I love my reviewers dearly:) Please review!


	9. Untraceable

Marco was in a daze. He couldn't get the sound of her screams out of his head. They echoed, over and over again, resonating throughout his head. He couldn't think of anything but his terrified daughter, with some psycho somewhere... Being hurt. Badly.

He could still hear her yelling "Daddy, help me." She hadn't called him Daddy since she was twelve. She must be so, so scared.

He needed to save her.

He let out a small whimper as the picture of his Mickey being whipped filled his brain. He buried his face in his hands.

"Stop this. You need to be strong," came a voice from above him. He looked at the silver-haired man whose arm was extended to help him up.

"But Mickey-"

"Needs you to be strong and think clearly so you can find her," Gibbs finished.

"Do you have kids, Agent Gibbs? If you do, imagine yourself in my place-"

"I HAD a daughter," Gibbs replied. Marco's eyes softened.

"What..."

"She and my wife were killed over twenty years ago," he told the younger man, helping him to his feet.

"I am so sorry..."

"I can imagine how you must be feeling. Although you have a shot at getting her back. I didn't. Focus on saving her," Gibbs advised.

"I'm just a civilian, am I allowed to be helping?"

"She's your daughter. I'm not going to tell ya you can't," Gibbs said. Marco's face was filled with gratefulness.

"I'm going to call my wife, let her know what's going on. Can she come? This guy's beef is with her, anyway," Marco asked. Gibbs nodded.

...

"Marco Anthony DiCello, 41 years of age, born in Italy in 1968. He followed in his father's footsteps, and joined the Italian Secret Service by the time he was twenty two. He married Michelle Rossi when he was twenty three, and their daughter, Micaela, was born when he was twenty four," McGee began, he stood in front of the plasma, briefing Ziva, Tony, and Gibbs on Marco's past. "There was a mission in Israel, fifteen years ago. The details are classified, but... he was captured, and he came out of it severely injured. He was deemed unfit for work." Tim said the last part softly, not wanting to upset Ziva, who was now studying the carpet fibers intently. "He and his family immigrated to the U.S., and obtained their citizenships a few years later. He now works as a chef in a Italian restaurant in D.C. Michelle DiCello, on the other hand, is a Petty Officer in the Navy. Petty Officers are not usually recruited for highly classified work, but Michelle is a very qualified scientist who works in the labs developing new technology. Whatever program she is working on now... it got her daughter kidnapped."

"And the perp wants all of the info she can give him sent to _this_ untraceable email address within the hour, or we get another call in which we hear Micaela being tortured," Tony adds.

"Did you trace the number, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"Boss... I'm sorry, but the number that texted DiCello the email address belonged to a burn phone, paid for in cash, in California. It was a dead end," Tim replied.

"Rule six, Tim. What about the email address?"

"Same deal, Boss. I was able to trace the address back to an public access computer in an internet cafe in Georgetown. No way to tell who created the account," McGee said again, somewhat apologetic.

"Can you figure out where someone is accessing it from? We could put an alert on the email account, right? If anybody logs in, can't you tell and trace it?" Tony suggested.

"I can try. But he is not going to go back on it until it is time for him to see if Petty Officer DiCello obeyed his orders."

"DiNozzo, with me," Gibbs said, grabbing his badge and gun.

"Where to, Boss?"

"We're going to find out who created that account. If McGee can tell us the exact time and date it was created, we can go back and search the cafe's security footage," Gibbs replied. McGee typed something in.

"It was created four days ago, at 0932," McGee informed them.

"Wait for the call, when it comes, start the trace just in case. Record the voice so we can play it back for Petty Officer DiCello, see if she recognizes it. And to _not_ let either of the DiCellos hear that call, you got it? This guy's not going to be gentle with their daughter." With that, Gibbs and Tony disappeared into the elevator.

McGee prepared the trace and recording technology, before sitting back in his chair. He hated waiting.

"Ziva?" he asked, noticing how zoned out she was. She didn't reply. "Ziva!" he called again. She started, looking up.

"Yes?"

"You okay?" he asked. Ziva nodded. In truth, she was not okay. She was thinking about Micaela, who was probably in a world of pain right now. She hated that an innocent teenage girl was being tortured. She hated to think about what that bastard was doing to her right now. And above all, she hated that she could do nothing. She had not yet been cleared for field work, and so she was confined to her desk. She felt so damn helpless.

"He came online on his email!" McGee exclaimed all of a sudden. He had begun to start a trace, but the damn guy was too fast. The second he realized there was no new email, he had logged off.

"Damn," McGee cursed, hitting his fist on the desk.

The cell phone on Ziva's desk began to ring. She had been told by Gibbs to take DiCello's cell phone, so when he called back they would be ready. She looked to McGee, who told her to bring the phone to him. She did so, and he started the recording and the trace as she flipped it open.

"Hello?" she answered.

"You did not meet my demands. I warned you of what would happen if you did not. She will suffer," the man said, before he hung up. Puzzled, Ziva held he phone away from her.

"What in the world?" she asked, but her question was soon answered, almost five minutes later.

The phone rang again, a short vibration this time. The alert said "one new email." Ziva opened the email, and was filled with dread.

Attached to the email was a video.

_Shit._

A/N: So? What did you think? Thanks so much to Zivafan2481, Liraeyn, NazChick, pirate-princess1, "Tiva Lovah," and Sammy Jo for the great reviews! You guys are the reasons I update:) I hope you are still liking this. This was sort of a boring chapter, more case-ficy but we will get to the good stuff soon:) Next chapter from Micaela's perspective!

Review, please! It would make my day:)


	10. Agony

She didn't know how long she had been here. All she knew was that she was scared. So, so scared.

And in pain.

She has never felt pain like this before. Her back was burning, like it was ablaze. And there was nothing that she could to to alleviate the pain. She was hanging by her wrists from a support beam, naked from the waist up. The man in the ski mask had not returned, which she was grateful for. She knew it wouldn't be long, however. She had heard the phone conversation. She knew that he would be back to hurt her again. And worse, this time. She couldn't imagine the pain being any worse.

The door swung open, and Ski Mask walked back in. He looked pissed, which Micaela knew was NOT a good sign.

"Please... Please don't hurt me," she whimpered as he came closer.

"Your family didn't meet my demands. I'm afraid I have to," the deep voice replied. He opened a black duffel bag that was sitting in the corner, and retrieved a camera and tripod, before returning and setting it up so the camera had a perfect view of her.

This was not good.

He flipped open his cell phone and dialed a number, holding it up to his ear.

Whoever answered the phone was obviously not who he wanted to hear. He said they would face the consequences, before promptly hanging up and pressing record on the camcorder immediately.

He grabbed the bull whip from the black bag and stalked towards her.

"Say hi to your mommy and daddy, Mickey," Ski Mask said, saying her nickname in a mocking tone.

Micaela said nothing. She didn't know what to say.

"Your parents apparently don't love you enough to try to save you from this, darling. I hope this little video makes them realize what exactly they are doing to you by defying me," the man growled.

Without warning, he brought the whip down on her stomach. She almost screamed. She needed to be strong.

But that goal went down the drain when the second blow struck her. The pain was so intense. She let out a pained cry.

"Scream for me, darling. You know you want to. I know how much agony you are in. Scream for me, scream for your daddy... Let them know how much it hurts," he practically cooed, talking to her like she was a child.

She whimpered, biting down on her lip to keep from letting the agonized scream that was building up inside of her escape.

As she felt the next blow, she realized she couldn't take it any longer.

The scream that tore its way through her body was blood curling and hair raising. It took a while for it to register that those terrified and pain-filled screams came from her mouth. Another followed as he struck her again, the ends of the whip digging into her flesh.

"Daddy!" she cried. It was halfway between a scream and a sob, "Daddy save me! DADDY!" the last word was screamed so loud that her voice cracked and it was almost inaudible. Her screams turned into sobs as the relentless strikes of the whip hit her. She had no time to recover from each, they were one after the other. She no longer could scream. She was almost numb.

"Daddy," she whimpered softly as her torturer stopped raining the blows down on her horribly ravaged back.

"If I don't have those files within the next hour, you get another video," he said, "And that is not a threat... That is a guarantee." he punctuated the last part with one more strike of the whip, catching Micaela off guard. She screamed hoarsely once more, before the man turned off the video camera.

He took out to memory card and inserted it into his laptop, which was sitting on the table behind the tripod. After a few moments, he rubbed his hands together, a diabolical grin on his face.

He laughed cruelly as Micaela let out another whimper of agony. With that, he left her alone, with only her thoughts and pain for company.

A/N: I hope you like it! it was really hard for me to post, because i'm having internet issues and, well, it's 11:30 at night... so i hope you appreciate it! Thanks so much for all the reviews! Please review this chapter, also! It was hard to write:( 


	11. Scream

"What do ya got?" came a voice from the elevator. Gibbs and Tony were back from the Internet Café, and McGee and Ziva were frozen in horror, staring at the screen and the video which had yet to begin playing. They both whipped around to face the two agents who had just entered the bullpen.

"The call came about five minutes ago… it was short, very short, I didn't even get more than a word in. I should have known he wasn't going to leave it at that. Our perp has decided to shake things up a bit… he sent Marco a video," Ziva explained the situation.

"Well play it," Gibbs commanded. Ziva took a deep breath, and pressed play. A room came into view. It was dark, only lit by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Also hanging from the ceiling, to everyone's horror, was a young girl. Micaela. Her arms had been tied above her head and she was hanging by a hook from the ceiling, her toes just inches off the ground. Her entire torso was bare, and it was easy to see a couple of lash marks on the front. They weren't severe, they weren't bleeding very much, but blood still had accumulated in a small puddle beneath her. Her breathing was labored, and she was looking at the camera in horror. Her gaze was shifted when a man in a ski mask, wielding a whip, came into view. She looked a him with fear on her face.

"Say hi to your mommy and daddy, Mickey," he taunted her. The Team was very glad that neither of the DiCello's were here to see this. "Your parents apparently don't love you enough to try to save you from this, darling. I hope this little video makes them realize what exactly they are doing to you by defying me," he growled, his words partially directed to the camera.

The first blow was to her stomach. Micaela's expression changed to one of pure agony as the tip of the whip sliced the skin of her abdomen, but she did not cry out. Ziva had to admire the girl's bravery. She knew from experience how hard it was to stay silent. The second blow struck her, and she let out a pained cry.

"Scream for me, darling. You know you want to. I know how much agony you are in. Scream for me, scream for your daddy… let them know how much it hurts," he cooed. He hit her again, and she whimpered. Ziva felt sick. In those moments, she was able to vividly recall the times in Somalia, the times where all there was was pain. The endless struggle to not show weakness, to not scream… and the demeaning voice of her torturer talking to her like she was a child, urging her to scream for him, because it turned him on…

"Excuse me," she muttered, making beeline for the head. The last thing she heard before disappearing into the bathroom was a harsh, blood curling scream.

She barely made it to the toilet before throwing up her lunch.

A/N: I know. It's barely over a page. Feel free to hate me. But review! Please? I could have just not updated, I thought you guys might like to have a new chapter that short oppose to no new chapter at all?


	12. Panic

"Ziva? Are you in there?" came a voice from outside the bathroom door. Ziva stood frozen in front of the mirror, staring back at the stranger inside of it. She splashed some water on her face and wiped it off before walking to the door. McGee was standing out side.

"You okay?" he asked her. She nodded.

"I am… worried. For her," Ziva clarified. Tim nodded, wrapping an arm around her and leading her back to the bullpen.

"We all are, Ziva, we all are. I can only imagine how horrible that was for you to watch that."

"I feel like such a coward, though! I am not even living it! The pain she is going through… I do not have time for such cowardice," she reprimanded herself. Tim stopped in his tracks, pulling her to a halt as well and placing both his hands on her shoulders, turning her to look at her.

"You are not a coward. This is bringing up horrible memories for you, Ziva. You are reacting in a way any _human_ would. Being human does not make you weak. But we do need to find her, and I believe that, aside from the DiCellos, you are probably the person who is most driven to find her."

"I feel like I owe it to him… to find his daughter. But it isn't just that… I can't stand the fact that she is in so much pain. I know what it's like, McGee, I know her physical pain, but I can only imagine the emotional pain she must be experiencing. I was trained for that type of torture, McGee. I knew what to expect. Mickey… she's just an innocent child! She doesn't deserve this…"

"No one deserves this. But we will _find her_," he assured Ziva. She nodded and wiped away a stray tear.

"I need to get to work," she said, obviously ending their conversation. Her walls were back up again.

"Abby has been analyzing the videos," McGee informed her as they entered the bullpen.

"Isn't Marco down there?" she asked, panicking for a second. God, if Marco saw that video…

"Relax. We sent him home. He is of no use to us here and we can't risk him seeing the videos," Tim said. Ziva nodded, relieved.

"The man at the Internet Café gave us his security footage. I'm just about to pull it up and go through it…" Tony said, trailing off. He stood up, grabbing the remote and pressing a button.

"Alright. The time stamps correlate to about 0932 four days ago… aha! There, that's _got_ to be him," he said, pausing it and zooming in on a man sitting at one of the computers. He was wearing normal civilian clothes, and he tried very hard to not look at the security camera. He was nervous, jumpy. Despite his efforts to not look at the security camera, when the woman at the counter asked him if he needed anything, he whirled around. Tony froze it again.

"Send it to Abby," Gibbs commanded, before walking away quickly.

…

"His name is Declan Santos," Abby said, a proud smile on her face as she whirled around to face Ziva, Tony, Tim, and Gibbs. 

"What kind of name is that?" Tony asked, laughing a little.

"He may have a stupid name, Tony, but he is _not_ stupid. He might have slipped up at the coffee shop, but he has effectively covered his tracks everywhere else. I have absolutely _no_ idea where he is, Gibbs! He has left no paper trail, he has no arrest record, not even a parking ticket. Declan Santos might be an alias," Abby told them.

"I doubt it. Who picks a name like _Declan?_" Tony asked, jokingly. Gibbs slapped him. "Sorry, Boss," he winced.

"So we are back to square one?" Ziva wondered.

"I will keep trying, but I would recommend you search elsewhere. Our answer to this doesn't lie in Declan Santos. He is the guy, but until we have a better method of verification… I don't see how this angle is going to pan out, guys," Abby said apologetically.

…

Ziva sat at her desk, working furiously. She was extremely focused, trying to think of nothing aside from finding Micaela. For a while, she had almost forgotten about all of her problems. The pregnancy, the stares that came with it, the Marco issue, everything. And then she would remember, and it would hit her with maximum force again.

"Ziva," someone said. She snapped head up to find Tony standing behind the divider to the right of her desk.

"What?" she snapped. He stood up straight and raised his eyebrows.

"Just wanted to know if you were okay? I never got to ask you after we watched the video and you left-"

"It was nothing. It was just morning sickness," she lied, turning back to her computer screen, but keeping watch on Tony through the corner of her eye.

"It's like three in the afternoon, Zee-VAH," he said, rolling his eyes and walking to the front of her desk.

"Ok, so it was hormones then," she excused again. Tony let out an audible sigh.

"Ziva, you don't have to lie to me about it. It's okay to admit that this is affecting you," he told her. She looked up at him, stubbornness in her eyes.

"I am fine, Tony. Now go work on the case. We need to find her," she said, no emotion in her voice and a fake smile on her face. After a few seconds of a stare down, Tony just heaved a sigh and turned to go back to his desk. Damn Gibbs for rubbing his glare off on her. Tony couldn't compete with the Gibbs glare, even Ziva's rendition… _especially_ Ziva's rendition.

…

Thirty minutes later and Ziva was alone once again in the bullpen. She was confined the stupid desk because of the damn pregnancy.

Marco's phone rang, and Ziva knew that it was the perp calling with his hourly check in. Ziva didn't know if she could watch another video like the last.

"Hello," Ziva said, not knowing why she bothered with a friendly greeting.

"I would like to know who this is," the deep voice from the other end said, "It's not either of the DiCellos. Which agency do you work for?"

"That is none of your business," she replied, hostility obvious in her voice.

"Hmm… Why are you so angry?" he asked, his voice musing.

"Go to hell," she fumed, before flipping the phone shut.

She leaned back in the chair and took a deep breath before flipping her own phone open to call Gibbs.

"_Gibbs,"_ he answered.

"The phone call just came. I am expecting another video within the next five minutes," Ziva told him. Silence came from the other end. "Gibbs?" she asked. He had hung up.

The elevator opened a minute later, and Gibbs stepped out, followed by Tony and McGee.

"Video here yet?" Gibbs asked. Ziva shook her head, getting up from her desk.

"No."

Ten minutes later, the video still hadn't come. Team Gibbs was becoming hopeful.

"Do you think he's just not going to send one?" Tony asked.

"He will send one," Gibbs said, looking up from his computer monitor.

Gibbs must have had a sixth sense, because not even twenty seconds later, Marco's phone beeped.

"Pull it up, Ziver," he commanded.

Ziva tried to keep her hands from shaking as she connected the phone to the plasma and pulled up the video.

"Do we really need to watch it, Boss? I mean he's sending it on purpose, to hurt us," Tony said, casting what he thought was a discreet glance at Ziva. But she noticed, and he quickly looked back to Gibbs. Tony didn't want Ziva to have to see this.

"There could be a clue, he could have slipped up somewhere, you never know. We all have to watch it, DiNozzo, the more eyes the better," Gibbs replied, standing up and walking to the plasma. Tim, Tony, and Ziva did the same thing. Ziva stayed to the back, trying to hide her anxiety.

Ziva pressed play, and the image of a young girl, Mickey, curled up in a corner, appeared. It looked to be in a basement. It was dark, but you could still see the blood on her body and ragged clothing. Her head was turned away from the camera as she huddled against the wall.

"Your parents don't seem to be getting the message, _Mickey._ I think it's time we tried something different, don't you think? Shake it up a little?" the man said, his voice mischievous. Micaela whimpered.

"I've been wanting to do this for some time now," he growled, advancing on her. Ziva shuddered, silently begging God for this to not be what she thought it was. But she knew. She knew it was. She knew that tone of voice, she recognized the lust. And Ziva could tell that Mickey knew it, too.

"I'm going to enjoy this, bitch," he snarled, before pouncing on her.

Ziva, not knowing it, let out a whimper.

"No," she begged under her breath. The three members of her team turned around to look at her. But she was too lost in her own world. She could hear the man in the video, his voice taunting and demeaning. She could hear the screams of a terrified girl being violated.

All she could think about was _him._

She put her head in her hands. She wanted to die. The pain was so great.

Tony, Gibbs, and Tim watched as the woman they all loved and treasured fell to her knees, and let out a scream. They watched as her body began to convulse as she sobbed pitifully, begging for mercy. They watched as she flinched and yelped when Tony tried to comfort her by placing his hand on her shoulder.

They watched, unable to do anything for fear of making it worse, as Ziva's body stopped moving, her eyes shut, and she let unconsciousness claim her.

A/N: Sorry it too so long. I've had a severe case of writers block. But I think I know where it's going from here, so bear with me. Thanks so much to **Nazchick,** **Zivafan2481, **and** tiva lovah**. You guys are three of my most faithful reviewers Love ya! I will update when I can! Reviews would help, you know, prompt me…:D And I will focus more on the pregnancy after the case thing is over.


	13. Cracks

_She was so cold. She wished that the cold would freeze her body, making her numb to the pain. It hurt so damn _much._ And the cold only served to accentuate that, to her disappointment._

_The men came and went. She no longer cared. She had been ripped open, and left bleeding on a cold stone floor without anyone who gave a damn about her._

_She stared absentmindedly at the stone wall from where she was lying in the middle of the cell. She had spent so long just lying there, in that same spot, trying to think of something that would take away the agony. She had memorized every crack, every little spatter of blood on that wall. _

_The pain was so intense. It was _all over._ She could no longer distinguish the pain of a broken bone from the pain of a stab wound. It all blended together, until all there was was pain. The agony was all-consuming._

_She no longer cared what they did to her._

_She shivered a little as a gust of wind blew through the open, but barred, window. It sent a chill down her naked and broken body. She no longer had the strength to put her clothing back on after each visit she got. She longed for the little bit of warmth they would bring her, but she was so damn weak._

_So weak._

_But what hurt the most was that she deserved this. All of this._

_She heard approaching footsteps in the hall and knew that she was going to be visited by another lustful and violent man. But once again, she just couldn't bring herself to care._

_He opened the door, sauntered in, and slammed it shut behind him. He then walked over to her still form lying brokenly on the dirty ground, his massive form towering over her._

_Ziva didn't look at him. She just kept counting the cracks in the wall._

_She kept counting even as he removed his clothes. _16._ He gave her limp form a little kick, but she did not respond. She continued to count the cracks, her haunted and empty eyes not leaving the wall. _19.

"_Yo, bitch!" he snarled. _22. _She blinked. It took her a minute to remember that this should anger her. But the degrading names were so commonplace here that she had begun to forget her own name. She responded to_ "_whore" and "filthy Jew" better than "Ziva" nowadays. _

_That_ was_ her name, right?_

_The man kneeled down in front of her. _25. _She felt his filthy, sweaty body climb on top of hers. _30._ She could barely breathe._ 37._ He was crushing her._ 42._ His stench filled her nostrils._

48. 49. 50.

_She barely felt the pain of him thrusting into her. Compared to the rest of the pain, it was nothing. She had been ripped apart so many times that she had stopped feeling it when they took her without her permission, tearing her. At first she had screamed. At first she had struggled. At first she had kept track of every man, how many times he hurt her, and the personality of them all. _

_Now, they were just nameless, faceless, monsters. She never fought anymore. She learned early on that her screams turned them on. Struggling did nothing but bring her pain. Now, she remained still as they raped her. They had taken her so many times that she no longer felt it._

_But the shame and humiliation and _violation_ she felt were always there. _

_After what seemed like an eternity, the man climbed off of her. She hadn't moved, not once. Her empty, emotionless gaze was still focused on that wall that she had come to despise. She knew that to an onlooker, she must appear to be dead._

_The man stood up and sighed, obviously disappointed._

"_Whore," he murmured, before giving her a final kick in the gut. She didn't respond, she just laid there. The man shook his head before departing._

_Only once he was gone did she let a lone tear slide down her unseeing eyes._

_It was not long later that she heard the footsteps again, and once again, she couldn't find it in herself to care. She didn't flinch when the door opened or when the man came to stand over her._

_But she did flinch when he crouched down by her side and gently wiped the hair from her face. He did it almost lovingly, but she knew better. She braced herself for the smack, for the bite, for the violent kiss._

_None came._

_She felt his cold, huge hand come to her neck, and for a moment she thought he was going to cut off her air supply. But he didn't, instead he simply pressed two fingers into the bruised crook of her neck._

_He was taking her pulse._

"_Thank God," she heard him mumble._

_She didn't let herself be fooled. She knew that he was only doing it so he would not accidentally rape a corpse._

"_What have they done to you, beautiful?" he whispered. She could hear the pain in his voice._ Beautiful._ The way he said it wasn't taunting like she was used to. His voice wasn't filled with lust as he said it. It held… compassion._

_Slowly, and not without pain, she turned her head to look up with him. It felt strange to use her muscles. It had been so long._

_Her eyes filled with confusion when they came in contact with those of the man crouching beside her. They were deep brown, and held compassion and sorrow._

"_Do not touch me," she rasped, her voice hoarse from months of silence and screams. She hated being touched._

"_I am sorry," he apologized, quickly withdrawing his hand, "God, you poor thing, you look so… broken…" he mumbled._

"_I _am_ broken," she croaked._

"_No. No, do not say that, do not give in to them," he encouraged her, "What is your name?"_

"_Uh… it's, uh… Z-ziva," she whispered. _

"_Ziva. Such a beautiful name for a beautiful young woman," he said, stroking her blood-coated hair. This time, Ziva did not reprimand him for touching her. It almost felt... nice. She had forgotten what it felt like to feel a gentle, kind touch. Even though it went against all of her training, she welcomed it._

_It sounded so strange to hear someone say her name with such reverence. It felt so strange to hear something kind directed at her. She was used to insults and degrading, derogatory terms._

_Everything about this situation, this conversation, this man, was an anomaly. Perhaps this was merely another method of getting information out of her. Perhaps they had sent this man to gain her trust..._

_She knew she should not trust him. She should not trust anybody, not ever. Especially not here._

"_What do you want with me?" she asked hoarsely._

"_Nothing. I want nothing from you," he assured her._

"_Then why are you here?"_

"_I had to see if what I was hearing was true," he told her._

_"What were you hearing?"_

"_That… that the confident Mossad Agent that they had captured two months ago has been reduced to… never mind," he cut himself off. She didn't need to hear what they had described her as, in her current state._

"_Tell me," she insisted._

"_It is horrible, you do not need to hear it," he assured her._

"_I have been called horrible, dreadful things here. I can assure you this is nothing different," she told him._

"_They… they said that they had taken you, a confident, cocky, Mossad Officer, and broken you, finally gotten it into you that you were nothing but a worthless… a worthless fuck hole," he said, whispering the last part._

_Ziva felt a pang of despair at his words. She had heard horrible things, yes, but she had always been able to write it off because she knew it was not true. But this… this was true. It horrified her to think about what she had become. She never had thought that the day would come when she would stop fighting and simply _let_ them hurt her like this. She never thought she would be reduced to this._

"_It is true," she whispered, her voice cracking. A lone tear fell down her cheek._

"_No, no, no, no. That is not true. You are not worthless," he promised her._

"_I am. You have compassion, you empathize with me. And yet you should not feel sorry for me. You should not pity me. I deserve this, I deserve it all," she said, with such resignation in her voice that the man could have sworn he heard his heart break._

"_No, Ziva, NO. No one deserves this, no one," he shook his head._

"_Why do you care? Why do you _care_ about me?" she cried._

"_I am not like them. I don't want to be here. I hate it here, I hate it! But Saleem… My father wanted me to be like him…" the man trailed off._

"_Who… who is Saleem to you?" Ziva asked, suddenly suspicious._

"_No, I cannot tell you, you will hate me," he told her._

"_I will not."_

"_He is my brother," the man admitted. Ziva gave a subtle nod, as much as her aching neck would allow her._

"_I understand," she said, softly._

"_I don't want to be here," he whispered._

"_So run away!" she told him._

"_I… I can't bring myself to leave."_

"_You must."  
><em>

"_I can't, I'm sorry," he shook his head, "It is not so easy."_

"_Don't let your want to be accepted into you family dictate your life. It never ends well," she said._

"_Are you speaking from experience?" _

"_It's how I ended up here," she said, vaguely._

"_I see-" he began, but was cut of by the sound of footsteps._

"_Go," she whispered. The man nodded. Standing up. When the door opened, the kind man fixed his pants and rubbed his hands together._

"_Just finished. She was a good enough lay," he said, "Enjoy 'er."_

_The man walked into the hallway, and shut the door behind him, trying to find the self control within himself to not run back in there and tear the man off of her._

_He heard a scream from the cell he had just left. _

_He sped up to a run, sprinting out of the prison building._

…

_Ziva gave the man a vicious stare as he entered, and when he climbed atop her, she couldn't help but struggle a little bit. And when he thrust inside of her, she let out her first scream in months._

_That compassionate man's words had awakened something inside of her. She didn't know what, but it had made her realize that she shouldn't just give up._

_She was Ziva David. She was the confident Mossad Officer. She was not broken. She was _determined _ to not resign herself to this. 'I am not a worthless fuck hole,' she thought to herself. _

_And she longed for the man to return. He had awoken her spirit. She may be hurting, she may be longing for death, but she was not going to just let them break her spirit. _

"Ziva! Ziva!" she heard someone say. She gasped as her eyes flew open. She was in a hospital. _Again._

"What's going on? What happened?" she asked, frantically. Tony sat by her side, his hand in hers.

"You were screaming," he said, pain in his voice.

"No, I mean why am I in a _hospital,_ DiNozzo?" she snapped.

"In the middle of the video you dropped to the floor, screamed, and began to convulse before passing out. The video must have triggered some kind of… panic attack," he told her. Ziva pinched the bridge of her nose.

"How long was I out?" she asked.

"Not long. Maybe 45 minutes? Not long at all," he assured her.

"Then get me the hell out of here! Why am I here! We have to save Micaela!" she said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and trying to climb out. Tony stopped her.

"Whoa there, my ninja. We didn't know what had happened. Something could have been wrong with the baby," he said, pointing to her swollen stomach.

"Oh," she said. She hated that term. The thing growing inside of her… she still wasn't entirely convinced it wasn't a monster. Whenever she pictured it… she saw a little boy, with Saleem's eyes, looking up at her with that same twisted smile. "I need to get back to work."

"I know. You were discharged ten minutes ago, we were just waiting for you to wake up."

"Well, was there anything wrong with the fetus?" Ziva asked.

"Nope, it's healthy. What happened was purely psychological," he assured her, trying not to flinch at the way she said _fetus_. It was a medical term, it was cold, and impersonal. She didn't say _my baby_ or_ my child._ She addressed it as _the fetus._

"Let's get the hell out of here," she said, eagerly jumping out of the bed.

"Agreed. And Ziva… you know that if there is anything you ever need to talk about…" he trailed off, hoping she would get the hint.

"I know that I can come to you," she finished for him. _Though I will not,_ she added cynically in her head. She didn't need him to see how broken she truly was.

"Alright. Let's go. We have a missing girl to find," he said, taking her hand as they walked out of the hospital.

He tried not to dwell on the fact that for once she did not pull away. But on the inside, he was rejoicing.

_Baby steps, Tony_, he reminded himself.

But even baby steps were progress_. _Slow progress, but progress nonetheless. Maybe one day she would let him in. It would take time, but it would happen eventually. And time, he knew, was not an issue. He would always be there for her.

He just hoped she knew it, too.

A/N: For me, this is a _super_ long chapter. It was to make up for the long, long delay. This story isn't really on my top priority list right now, so sorry the faster I finish Innocence Corrupted, the faster I can start on my sequel to Forgiveness (for those of you waiting eagerly for it it may be a couple of months! My apologies!).

Tell me what you think most of the chapter was a Ziva's dream/flashback. So I would love to hear what you thought about the dream You guys are great, I love you all!

We are nearing 100 reviews! I would _so_ appreciate it if you could contribute to the _Allison's Writing Muse_ jar and just drop a review

And on a completely irrelevant note, I got my braces off today! Yippee!

My never ending thanks to **Nazchick**, **Zivafan2481**, **NCIS Connection**, **Shestrun**, **Angelhaggis**, **Robern**, **Tiva Lovah**, **Sammy Jo**, **Zivancis**, **pirate-princess1**, **GrassyNight**, and **Amber** for the AWESOME reviews Love you guys! Let's get the same amount of reviews this time so we can get to 100!


	14. Betrayal

They didn't allow Ziva to watch any more of the videos. They only got worse, and Gibbs was certain that she would not be able to handle it. Ziva pretended to resent him for this, but in truth she was relieved. She didn't want to suffer the pain or embarrassment of a panic attack again.

But as much as she hated watching those videos, she couldn't help but feel guilty. Micaela was being tortured as she spoke, and she wasn't doing anything to help save her, just because she didn't want to bring up some old memories.

And the worst part was that they were no closer to finding her than before.

Gibbs had sent her home two hours after she returned from the hospital. He probably thought her to be worthless, and she agreed with him. She was damaged goods.

She collapsed on the couch in her apartment. She hadn't slept in a bed since the last night at the Navy Lodge. The first night that she had moved into her apartment, she had slept in the bed. But she woke up screaming, feeling exposed and unprotected. She went out into the living room and slept on the couch. It made her feel a little more protected.

Her apartment was cold and empty. She had nothing when she came back from Somalia, so everything in the apartment was something that was already there when she moved in. It was plain, and lacked any homeliness whatsoever. It was almost as if no one lived there.

She shivered and pulled the covers closer to her body. She was starting to show, and because of it she was quickly discovering that she could no longer fit into her new wardrobe. Soon, she might be wearing the same size clothes she wore before this whole damn mess started.

She was exhausted. The events of the day had her absolutely drained of all energy. It was hard to believe that it was this morning that Marco walked into NCIS and back into her life. It was hard to believe that this horrible kidnapping situation only began today.

So much had happened in such little time.

She had absolutely no problem with falling asleep that night.

_The footsteps. It always started with the footsteps. They always brought with them misery and pain._

_She tried so hard to block it out. But after _he_ visited… she no longer would be able to just take it. She always had to fight, she always felt the need to strike back at them._

_Of course, that was the one thing she couldn't do._

_She curled up into a ball in the corner of the cell. The pain it took to get herself into that position was nearly unbearable, but she felt less exposed there. Less vulnerable._

_Not that it would ever make a difference. Not here._

_She didn't look up when the rotting cell door squeaked open. She kept her body curled up in the fetal position, refusing to acknowledge the man's presence._

_She inwardly flinched with each approaching footstep. She felt a light caress on her face, and braced herself for a blow which never came._

_That had only ever happened once._

Him.

_She looked up, her eyes uncertain. _

"_You," she rasped. He simply gave her a kind smile, and tried to help her sit up. She ground her teeth together, trying to hold in a whimper of pain. When she finally was propped up against the wall, sitting for the first time in over a month, her breaths were coming out in short gasps. The ragged pain knew no mercy, it shot up and down her body like an electric current._

"_Better?" he questioned._

"_Not really," she panted._

"_Sorry," he apologized. She tried to twist her face into a smile a little, but had a feeling that she was failing pretty badly. "What happened to your clothing?" he inquired. Her head shook minutely. _

"_Torn… Rags. Don't bother," she said brokenly._

"_There has to be something I can do," he told her. She detected a hint of desperation in his voice._

"_Nothing. You… can't save me," she said, her words still coming out in short pants._

"_Are you dying?" he asked, suddenly sounding alarmed. Her face twisted into a small smirk._

"_If only," she said, sounding a bit forlorn._

"_No, no. Don't say that. Don't give up…"_

"_There is… nothing… for me to… live for."_

"_There has to be something. Won't someone come and save you-"_

"_My father… sent me… here to die. He is… not coming."_

"_Doesn't anybody else know you're here…?"_

"_Tony… Gibbs… McGee…" she whispered, unable to stop tears from forming in her eyes as she spoke their names._

"_Maybe they will come-"_

"_They would not want someone… so broken as me," she told him._

"_You don't know that-"_

"_My worth is gone. As a woman, as a human… I am worth nothing. I will rot here and no one will ever know," Ziva told him, sadness clouding her voice._

"_Who are they?" the man asked._

"_They are my friends… back in D.C., at NCIS. The only people I have ever… the only people that I have ever… loved."_

"_And they loved you back?"_

"_Not anymore," Ziva told him. Another tear slid down her cheek._

"_I am sure that is not true."_

"_I am afraid that it is," she replied, her voice slipping towards the end. Her eyelids began to droop, as if the effort of keeping them open was suddenly too much._

"_Ziva?" he asked, tapping her cheek lightly. She didn't respond._

_The man sighed, standing up._

_The poor girl._

…

_Ziva was thrown back into consciousness by the loud bang of the door slamming open. Her eyes flew open, terror flashing in them for a millisecond before she was able to cover it back up with that well-placed mask she always wore._

_She looked away, unable to look in their faces. She hated seeing the lust and the cruelty there._

_There were at least eight of them._

"_Hello, beautiful," the one in front sneered. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block it all out. "Now, now, doll, don't be like that. We are going to have some fun today, right men?" he called, turning to the men behind him._

_Ziva heard a loud cheer._

"_Hasan, how about you go first? Since you are the newest among us, you are the only one here who hasn't undergone this particular… shall we say rite of passage. You should get the chance to have her first, today," the man suggested. _

"_Really, it's fine. I prefer to do this kind of thing in private…" the man called Hasan said, hesitantly._

_Ziva's eyes snapped open. _

"_Hasan, this isn't an option. Unless you are too _weak_ to do it… I can easily tell your brother. You wouldn't want that, would you, you pathetic chicken?" the lead man taunted._

_Ziva looked up out of the corner of her eyes. She saw Hasan step forward until he was standing next to the lead man._

"_Alright, I will do it," the Hasan agreed. He removed his shirt as he stalked towards Ziva's trembling frame._

"_Please…" Ziva whispered, begging. She had never begged before. Not when they were suffocating her, not when they were beating her half to death, not when they ran an electric current through her body so much that she passed out, "Please do not…" She was shaking her head, trying to stop him. _

"_Don't be like that. You know you want it," she heard Hasan say. The words cut her, deep in her soul. She could see plainly in his eyes, the pain he was in. He didn't want to do it. The words that came from his mouth were forced. His eyes were uncertain._

_He undid his belt buckle, and his pants dropped to the floor, leaving him naked. She wasn't able to hide the tremors that shook her body._

"_Please…" she whispered, her voice cracking._

_Hasan knelt next to her, just like he always had. But this time, his touch wouldn't be gentle._

_He roughly grabbed her body and pulled it away from the wall, lying her down on the cold, stone ground. He pulled her legs open, and somehow found the courage to do what he always promised himself he would never do._

_The worst part, was that he felt a rush of pleasure at hearing her scream in pain. He became even harder when she screamed, and when she thrashed._

_God, what was_ wrong_ with him!_

_Her screams had turned to cries, and the cries turned to whimpers. Soon, she wasn't making any noise at all. _

_He wanted to badly to stop. But yet, his body betrayed him. He was slamming into her forcefully, grunting in pleasure. He looked away form her face, unable to look at the agony in her eyes any longer. He had never seen so much emotion in them. They had always seemed empty, to some degree._

_Now, her eyes were a picture of torment and agony._

_She couldn't feel anything but the pain of betrayal, of being violated by someone you trusted. She knew, deep down, that he didn't want to be doing this. But that didn't change anything._

_And when he pulled out, he took with him her pride, her spirit, her soul, her hope, her heart… He ripped out everything that he had somewhat restored in the short time she had known and _trusted_ him._

_Hasan looked back into her eyes, and discovered that they were empty. They were barren, void of all emotion. If he thought they had been empty before… he hadn't seen anything. There was _nothing_ left. It was as if she was dead. Nothing was there but a shell._

_He pulled his pants back up, and backed up to the wall, staring at her eyes. The depth in them that had captured his attention at first was gone. They were just gaping abysses, black and emotionless._

_Ziva didn't feel the other seven of them. She didn't feel anything. She gave up, once again. _

_Perhaps that was his plan all along._

_If it was, he got his wish. She was completely and utterly broken._

She sat up in bed, jerked from her nightmare by the sound of her phone ringing. She checked the clock. 0430.

After taking a minute to calm herself, she picked it up and answered it.

"David."

"_We've got a lead, Ziver_."

"I'll be in ASAP," she said, flipping the phone shut.

She stood up, running her hands through her hair. How long would these nightmares keep up?

Suddenly, she felt a horrible nauseous feeling come over her. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she ran to the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet before she wretched, throwing up last night's hospital food.

How long would these nightmares keep up? How long would she continue to be unable to sleep?

She clutched her stomach, before standing up and rinsing out her mouth.

And she felt something.

It was a little kick, coming from her abdomen. No, not her abdomen. Her _womb._

The fetus. It wasn't the nightmares that caused this sudden rush of sickness, it was the pregnancy.

The parasite.

She immediately withdrew her hand from her abdomen, unable to take it anymore. She didn't want to fell the fetus' triumphant little kick.

It was almost as if it _knew_ it was causing her pain.

This little monster was a souvenir, a reminder of the worst time of her life. Ziva knew that as long as this parasite was with her, the nightmares would never stop.

And it was becoming harder and harder for Ziva to convince herself that she deserved this. Even after all of the people she has killed and lives she has ruined, it is hard for her to believe that anybody deserves something this horrible.

A/N: Yep. Happy chapter.

Please tell me what you think of this! Big thank you's to ZivaFan2481, pirate-princess1, MTGZ, NCIS Connection, Robern, Liraeyn, Tiva Lovah, sammys1208, and bLISSful813 for the awesome reviews you are the best!

But seriously? 98 reviews? Lol we got DAMN close to my 100 goal. I HOPE that I reach one hundred this time around, otherwise I know something is seriously wrong!

Thanks for reading!


	15. Beautiful

Ziva drove like a maniac through the streets of the nation's capital, eager to find out what the team had unearthed. She had managed to shove her own personal feelings onto the back burner for now. It had been difficult; the nightmare last night was more graphic than ever before and what with _his_... spawn making her sick in the morning…

She welcomed the distraction. Plus, she needed to focus on finding the poor girl.

She reached the top of the stairs (she had refused to take the elevator, she had discovered closed-in spaces made her panic) and walked up to the bullpen. Tony was standing with his back to her, having no clue she was there because she had not taken the elevator.

She gasped when her eyes focused on the picture on the plasma. It was a freeze-frame of one of the videos. Tony whirled around.

"Hey, Ziva. You feeling okay?" he greeted her. She blinked, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

She couldn't keep breaking down like this, every time she tried to look at a piece of evidence.

"Gibbs said you had a break in the case?" Ziva asked.

"Yeah. Some local LEOs pulled over a guy for speeding. He matched the picture of "Declan" that we put a BOLO out on. They're bringing him in now."

"We have to find Micaela. I mean it's good that we caught him, but she could die of blood loss if we don't find her in time," Ziva said, trying to keep her voice from wavering. The prospect of this sadistic bastard being anywhere near her friends and family made her skin crawl.

"I know. We are going to try to get the location of the house out of him. Gibbs might try to cut him a deal to get him to-" Tony began to suggest.

"No!" Ziva cut him off. "No, no deals. You can't. This bastard deserves to rot in prison for the rest of his miserable life.

"Okay," Tony said, warily, putting his hands up in defeat, "It was only a suggestion. If you are that opposed to it, I won't suggest it to Gibbs."

"Thank you," Ziva sighed with relief. Tony nodded, but cocked his head to the side when he noticed the tears in Ziva's eyes.

"Are you okay?" Tony asked, gently tilting her head up to look at him. She pulled away.

"Yes," she said, her voice thick as she blinked away the tears, "Just hormones, yes?"

"No. I don't believe you. Ziva if this case is getting to you personally then maybe-"

"NO! I cannot be taken off of this case! I owe it to Marco to save his daughter! I need to make all of this up to him…"

"So all of this is because you want to atone for your sins?"

"I will never be able to do that. There are far too many and they are far too grievous. But it's the least I can do. And… it doesn't matter whose daughter she is, Tony. She is hurting, so so much right now… You can't possibly understand the pain, Tony. You would be just as hell-bent as I am if you knew the pain…" she trailed off, realizing she had said far too much.

"I wish you didn't know the pain, Ziva," Tony told her, his voice cracking. Damn, the guilt was back… he should have looked for her sooner…

"I know you do, Tony," she replied, giving him a small, sad smile and softly patting his cheek, "And although I know I deserved it, I can't help but wish it had never happened as well."

"Ziva, how many times to I have to tell you that you don't deserve it." Tony objected.

"You can say it all you want, but I can never believe you," Ziva shook her head. Tony sighed, deciding to drop the subject for now.

"I forgot my backpack in my car, Ziva. It has the case file in it. Will you come with me?" Tony asked her. Ziva smiled.

"Of course, Tony," she agreed, and they both walked to the elevator.

The universe must have it out for Ziva, because the elevator opened just as they reached it, and out stepped Gibbs and McGee.

And the sadistic bastard that tortured an innocent girl.

Ziva's eyes went wide, and she automatically froze.

"Man, you all got good looking broads working for ya," the man sneered as Gibbs and McGee pushed him forward. The man purposefully elbowed Ziva, "How much for a night with you, huh beautiful?"

Tony pulled Ziva away from him, noticing how she seemed incapable of movement. Her eyes were staring straight ahead, and seemed to be off in a different world. Tony could detect the faintest bit of fear in her eyes. Her breathing quickened, until it was coming out in short gasps.

She couldn't breathe. They were on top of her. He was suffocating her. She could still hear him, the taunting tone of voice he used when he called her beautiful.

It was enough to make a woman wish to never be called such a thing again.

"_Hey, beautiful," Saleem taunted her as he flung open the door. She didn't move._

_She hadn't moved since Hasan… since Hasan…_

_She let out a sob as the memories and feelings of betrayal hit her full-force again._

"_What are you crying about?" he sneered, "A whore like you should have enjoyed what happened last night."_

_She just shuddered._

"_So this is about my bastard of a brother then, huh? Your little friend?" Saleem questioned her. She didn't reply. "One of my guards told me about his reluctance last night. I summoned him to my chambers. Turns out he had been_ helping_ you, the little bastard," Saleem growled, kicking the wall. Ziva flinched. "So I shot him. He didn't deserve to live. He wouldn't have lasted long anyway, the weakling."_

_The news hit Ziva like a freight train._

_She let out a small scream. No. He was dead? He may have betrayed her, but he didn't want to, and it… he… he was so… kind to her! He did not deserve to die. _

_It was her fault._

"_No…" she sobbed._

"_So you cared for him, too? I know he cared for you," Saleem taunted her, "And it's your fault he's dead. Hmm. Maybe I should kill you, put you out of your misery. I don't think you deserve to live, you filthy murderer. It's your fault. Maybe I should show you a little mercy, maybe I should kill you…" Saleem pondered._

"_Please, please… Kill me… Please," she begged. For once she didn't consider her pride. She didn't consider how far she had fallen to be begging for death like this._

_She knew he was just fucking with her head. He was just teasing her. He would never be so merciful as to end her suffering._

"_Nah. I'm a cruel bastard," he shrugged, "I think maybe you should have to suffer a little longer."_

"_No…"_

"_I think you deserve to suffer, you stupid Jew Bitch. No death for you, not today. That would be far too merciful, beautiful," he sneered._

_Hasan was dead. He was dead because of her._

_God, let her die._

"Ziva!" Tony yelled, pulling her back from her flashback. She gasped as her surroundings began to reappear. First sound, then touch, then sight…

"I am sorry," she whispered.

"Are you okay?" Tim asked, his eyes wide, "You were whimpering… you screamed once… and you kept flinching…"

"I am fine," she lied. But she suddenly felt very nauseous like she always does after a flashback or nightmare, and made beeline for the bathroom. She managed to make it to one of the stalls before throwing up.

Gibbs followed her in. He held her hair back as she dry heaved, nothing coming up because she had thrown up all her food this morning.

"I am sorry," Ziva apologized, standing back up. Gibbs pulled her in for a hug.

"Don't say you're sorry," he told her.

"I know. Sign of weakness."

"No, don't say it because you have nothing to be sorry for," Gibbs told her. She nodded into his shirt.

"Thank you."

A/N: Next chapter, they find Micaela, I promise. I was going to make it this one, but my mom is yelling at me, so I had to cut it short, sorry guys

Please review! The next chapter will be up quicker the more reviews I get! I treasure each review I get

Thanks to **pirate-princess1**, **Tiva lovah **(who was my 100th reviewer!), **ZivaFan2481**, **Liraeyn**, **Zivarocks44**, **Robern**, and ** NCIS Connection **for the awesome reviews!

And sorry for the delay for those of you who are reading Innocence Corrupted. If you have any ideas as to what happens in the next chapter please PM me! I want it to sort of be a recovery chapter for Selina (like just the aftermath and stuff), so if you have any ideas as to how that will play out tell me!

And Merry Belated Christmas (and Happy Hanukkah… and Kwanzaa… and belated Eid:D )


	16. Trauma

"We found her," Tony announced as he and McGee jogged out of the elevator. Gibbs and Ziva shot up from their desks.

"Where?" Gibbs asked.

"Small house in the middle of the woods in Virginia. We have the coordinates here," Tony said, waving the paper.

"What if he lied? What if he's just messing with us-" Ziva began, unwilling to get her hopes up.

"What if he's _not?"_ Tim pointed out. Ziva nodded, and grabbed her badge and gun.

"Whoa, Ziver, where do you think you're going?" Gibbs stopped her, his eyebrows raised.

"I'm going with you, Gibbs, to rescue Mickey."

"Ziva, you're too close to this. You're involved personally with the victim's father and you've had multiple panic attacks while working this case," Gibbs defended his actions. Ziva's eye's widened in disbelief.

"And what do you plan on doing once you find her, huh? She will be _traumatized._ She won't want to talk to _men!_ She won't trust anybody, she won't want you to go anywhere near her. She's never met you."

"She's never met you either."

"But I _understand_ what she's going through! I know the pain! Just let me do this, Gibbs. I will be there for moral support for Mickey and that's all, I promise. Just… I owe this to him, Gibbs," Ziva told him, her voice softening a little towards the end.

"Alright. You can come. But I'm worried about what might happen when you step in that room. You can't even watch the videos, are you sure that you want to bring up the memories-" Gibbs tried to rationalize with her.

"For her sake, I can live with it. Now let's get going, she could be bleeding out as we speak!" Ziva insisted, "I will drive."

…

They made it to the location fairly quickly, thanks to Ziva's maniac driving. They slammed the doors and walked up to the front of the small house. Tony and McGee ran around back, and Gibbs and Ziva walked up to the front door.

Gibbs gave the signal, and they kicked in the door. They heard and saw someone sprint out from what had to be the basement, and quickly dive out the window.

"Ziva, get the girl!" he shouted, before sprinting after the suspect. Ziva wanted to badly to take part in the chase, but knew that Micaela needed her help.

She flung the door to the basement open and ran down the steps two at a time.

She froze when she took in her surroundings.

A young girl was curled up in the corner, naked and bleeding. She was unconscious, and had an expression of pain etched on her face, even in sleep. She looked so small, so weak, so hurt…

Ziva looked at Micaela, and saw herself.

When she finally regained movement in her legs, she ran towards the girl and kneeled at her side. Ziva placed one hand on her shoulder and stroked her face gently with the other one.

"Mickey, honey, wake up," she said, giving the girl's shoulder a gentle shake. She moaned, and let out a whimper.

"Please, no…" she whispered.

"Mickey, open your eyes, you are safe. I'm a friend of your father's. It's going to be okay now, just open your eyes," Ziva coached her. Micaela's eyelids fluttered.

"Hurts," she mumbled.

"I know, honey, but it's okay. You're going to be fine, tateleh, just open your eyes."

"Don't wanna. Just kill me," she moaned.

"No, no tateleh, I'm not going to do that. You need to open your eyes. You parents are very worried about you. They're scared, they want you back," Ziva tried to soothe her. She knew how she must be feeling.

"I don't wanna go back. They won't want me," Micaela murmured.

"Because of what he did to you?" Ziva asked, stroking the girl's hair. Micaela gave the subtlest of nods.

"They will be ashamed of me."

"No they won't."

"How could you know that?"

"Because I have been in this position before. I felt ashamed and I felt worthless. I just wanted to die. I didn't think my family could possibly ever want me after what those men had done to me. But I was wrong. They accepted me back and helped me to heal. They held me close when I had nightmares."

"What if I get pregnant?" Micaela muttered, still keeping her eyes closed.

"Mickey, look at me," Ziva commanded. Micaela opened her eyes warily. At first they stared at Ziva's face, but gradually focused on the small bulge of her stomach. "They got me pregnant. But my family welcomed me back and are taking care of me," Ziva told her.

"I'm scared," she admitted.

"I know, tateleh, I know. I was too. But it's all going to be okay. Your father and mother love you very, very much," Ziva assured her.

"You promise? What if you're wrong?"

"I'm not wrong. I know your father. He and your mother love you so much. Nothing will ever change that, alright? I promise," Ziva told her. Micaela took a deep breath.

"Okay," she agreed.

"Can you stand?" Ziva asked.

"It hurts really badly," Mickey replied.

"I will take that as a no. Don't worry, the ambulance is almost here. The paramedics will come down and take you to the hospital."

"NO!" Mickey interjected. Ziva's brows knit together.

"What's wrong?" she asked, worried.

"I don't want anybody to see me like this!" Mickey replied, desperation in her voice. Ziva smiled softly, before taking off her NCIS windbreaker. She helped Mickey into a sitting position before wrapping it around her small, shaking frame. It was a little big on her, so it covered everything.

"Thank you," Mickey replied, genuine gratitude evident in her voice.

"You're going to be okay," Ziva assured her, before wrapping her arms gently around the girl. Mickey relaxing into the embrace. Ziva only pulled away when she heard footsteps on the stairs. It was Tony and McGee.

Mickey buried her head in Ziva's chest, suddenly very afraid.

"It's okay, tateleh, these are my friends. They were the ones who figured out where you were," Ziva assured her. It didn't seem to calm her down at all. Ziva gave up on that and looked up to the two men.

"Is she okay?" Tim wondered.

"She will be," Ziva replied, gently rubbing the girl's back, "Did you catch him?"

"Yep. Gibbs is putting him in the car now. I didn't realize there were more than one, none of us did," Tony answered.

"One of them was the… the one who tortured me… and the other one was… was sort of a sidekick," Mickey stuttered. Tony and Tim nodded.

"Well, there's nothing for you to worry about, sweetie. Both of them are in out custody and are going to jail for a long time," Tim told her.

"What's the ETA on the ambulance?" Ziva questioned.

"They should be here any minute now," Tony replied, glancing at his watch. As if on cue, they heard the front door open and the sound of talking.

"DOWN HERE!" Ziva shouted. Mickey began to shake as two unfamiliar men entered the room, carrying a stretcher. The other paramedic was a woman, thank God. "Mickey, tateleh, it's okay, they won't hurt you. They're paramedics, they're going to help you," Ziva reassured her, talking to her as if she was a child. Ziva stood up and walked to the three paramedics who had just finished their descent of the stairs.

"Be careful with her. She's traumatized," she told them, "I think it best if you do the majority of the treating, okay?" she suggested, turning to the female paramedic.

"Whatever's best for her," the woman agreed. The two men nodded and promised to limit the physical contact between them and the traumatized young woman.

Ziva walked with the paramedics over to Micaela. She and the female paramedic carefully lifted her injured body onto the stretcher.

"Will you ride to the hospital with me?" Mickey asked, in a voice the was filled with fear of rejection. Ziva gently took Mickey's bony and shaking hand in her own.

"Of course, tateleh. Of course."

A/N: I hope you liked it! I was actually sort of fond of my work for once Happy new years to everybody! I wish everybody a happy 2012!

**Angelhaggis**- unblock private messaging! I want to talk to you

Please review! I really appreciate each and every one! My never-ending thanks to Tiva Lovah, Sammy Jo (love ya, gurl!), pirate-princess1, ZivaFan2481, Angelhaggis, Miss Suave, and Robern for the reviews! You guys are great!

PS- My new year's resolution is to review every chapter of every story I read. What's yours?


	17. Malice

Ziva held Micaela's hand as the ambulance started up and began it's journey to the hospital. Mickey's eyes radiated pure uncertainty.

"What is it?" Ziva asked, despite the fact that she knew the list of things bothering Micaela right now was probably too long to describe.

"How much do they know? My parents, I mean?" Mickey inquired, her voice wavering.

"He only heard the first phone call, your mom heard nothing. They don't have to know anything else if you wish."

"I don't want this to be a secret, Ziva... It would eat me alive."

"It's your choice."

"What if he gave me a disease? What if I'm going to die? What if-"

"Stop," Ziva commanded, "There is no use worrying over something you have no control over. It does nothing. At this point all we can do is hope."

"I'm so scared," Mickey whimpered, a tear sliding down her face. Ziva squeezed the young girl's hand.

"I know, tateleh. But everything's going to be okay."

"How could you possibly know that? So many things can go wrong-"

"But you are safe. That is all that matters for the time being," Ziva assured her.

"I want to see my parents but at the same time... I'm so scared of what they will think..."

"They love you, that is the important thing. They won't be ashamed of you or give up on you, I promise. Your father was torn up throughout all of this. I don't think I've ever seen him so broken," Ziva mused. _Not even when I tortured him,_ she added mentally.

"How exactly do you know him? He's never mentioned you before," Mickey asked. Ziva knew she was changing the subject but she knew that Mickey had heard all she needed to.

"I... uh... I used to work for Mossad. We met a long time ago on one of his missions," Ziva answered. It was not _technically_ a lie. It was only a lie of omission, which in her book are not lies. They are only half-truths.

Half-truths are perfectly fine.

"Do you know how he got that scar? I always ask him and he tells me it was on a dangerous mission against some very bad people, but never more. I always was curious..." Mickey trailed off, looking to Ziva with a little bit of hope in her eyes. Ziva looked away.

"I was there when it happened," she replied, guilt coloring her voice.

"Who did it?" the girl questioned. Ziva sighed.

"A very bad person, Mickey. A very, very bad person."

…

"Ziva!" a man called. Ziva turned around and saw Marco and his wife sprinting through the waiting room doors. They came to a stop in front of her, out of breath. "We came as soon as we heard! Where is she? How's our baby girl?" he inquired, wrapping his arm around his wife.

"She is doing very well. She's in surgery right now to repair her broken leg," Ziva said in a calming voice. They let out simultaneous sighs of relief.

"Oh, thank God. I was so scared... what's the damage?" Michelle asked, a wary look on her face.

"Don't know yet. The doctor hasn't come out to let us know-"

"But you were there, you saw her, talked to her? What's the damage emotionally, mentally? God, I hope she doesn't hate me, me and my work are the reason she was even taken in the first place..." Michelle trailed off, tears coming to her eyes. Ziva took a breath.

"She doesn't blame you. But she's... she's traumatized. Terrified of men, wary of everybody she doesn't know... It's understandable, though. It will pass, she just needs time to heal those wounds. I'm afraid that's all I can say without betraying her trust," Ziva answered, keeping her calm very well.

"I know how she's feeling, you forget I've been tortured before. I'll tread lightly," Marco said. Ziva looked away.

"I haven't forgotten," she replied quietly. Marco's eyes widened.

"Oh, jeez, Ziva... I'm sorry I actually _forgot..._ I didn't meant to imply anything-"

"Don't apologize to me, Marco. I deserve it."

"Ziva... I'm sorry I really didn't want to make you feel guilty about it-"

"Wait, she's the one who tortured you?" Michelle cried.

"Shelby-"

"No! How dare you? How dare you hurt him like that and just waltz back into his life like nothing happened? He could _never_ forgive you for something like that! Do you realize how much you hurt him? How much pain you put him through? Do you realize what you _did to him?"_ Michelle yelled at Ziva. Ziva squeezed her eyes shut.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, a tear leaking out.

"Shelby, please. Calm down. I know you're angry. But she's changed. She isn't the same person anymore," Marco whispered, stroking his wife's flushed cheek.

"She still tortured you-"

"I know. But she's showed more than enough remorse, she _saved_ our daughter-"

"Marco... you always were so forgiving. I think sometimes that can be a curse... but at times like this it is a gift," Michelle said, her voice softening. "Please, don't cry. You have to understand, I was shocked and outraged..." she trailed off. Ziva furiously wiped away the tears.

"It's nothing. Just... hormones," she forced it out. She hated the word. She hated admitting that this _thing_ was changing her body and she was powerless to stop it.

But she hated nothing more than showing weakness. She wouldn't be weak.

Michelle's eyes zeroed in on Ziva's abdomen.

"Congratulations, by the way. Boy or girl?" Michelle asked. Ziva looked away.

"I don't know."

"Oh. You want to be surprised? That's what Marco and I did. It's the best way," she said.

"Uh... yeah," Ziva stuttered out.

Just then, the doctor emerged into the waiting room.

"Family of Micaela DiCello?" she called.

"That's us! How is she?" Marco asked.

"She's awake and doing very well. In fact, you can see for yourself! Right this way," she motioned. Marco turned and reached out for Ziva's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you," he said sincerely, before running off to follow the doctor.

…

She stood in the line of the cafeteria check out, a chocolate bar in hand. Her attempts to ignore the cravings and demands of the _thing_ growing inside of her hadn't been successful. So she had begrudgingly gone down to the cafeteria to satisfy the parasite living inside of her.

"Ziva!" she heard someone say. She turned around to see her OB/GYN, Dr. Cameron, standing in line behind her.

"Oh, uh, hi," she muttered.

"How have you been doing, Ziva?" the doctor inquired. Ziva paid for her food and took a deep breath.

"I have been well," Ziva lied, and walked out of the line. To her resentment, the doctor followed behind her after paying for her food.

"You know, you're overdue for your checkup," Dr. Cameron said.

"Am I?" Ziva asked.

"Come on, Ziva. You're already here. I'm free. Just come with me. You have to get a checkup anyway. Just to make sure the baby's healthy." the doctor reminded her. Ziva sighed. There was that word again. _Baby._

"Fine," she scowled.

…

"There's your baby, Ziva! It looks like you are nearing four months pregnant. I can tell you the gender, if you would like," the doctor told her in an all too cheery voice. Gender. She didn't want to know. She doubted it even had a gender. It was a monster. An it.

But whenever she pictured it, she saw a boy. A boy with eyes as dark as coal filled with malice.

The eyes of its father.

She doesn't know exaclty_ whose_ spawn she was carrying. But it didn't matter. They all had the same eyes. Dark as night, with pure cruelty and lust in them.

Except for one. Only one had kind eyes. But he was dead, he was dead because of her.

"Miss David?" the doctor questioned, pulling Ziva out of her reverie.

"What, doctor?" Ziva asked.

"Don't you want to know the gender of your baby?" the woman asked. _Baby_. Ha. This was no baby.

What she saw didn't really surprise her. It looked like an alien, like something inhuman, from a sci-fi movie.

A monster.

"No. Can I go now?" Ziva asked, impatient.

"Well, the baby looks healthy. A little small for four months, but considering the conditions and your malnournisment, it's to be expected. As long as you don't do anything too strenuous and eat healthily and don't drink, it will grow normally. Just let me wash off the jell and you will be free to go," the doctor told her.

Ziva felt sick, sick to her stomach. This thing growing inside of her... before it had just been something that she knew was there. She had been told she was pregnant, yes, she had been told there was something making a home inside of her. But the complete reality of it had hit her all at once when she saw pictures, _physical proof_, of the thing inside of her. Of _their _spawn.

She could picture the thing clearly. _Their _eyes, _their _malicious smile,_ their_ horrible cruelty. This couldn't be happening, it just couldn't.

Life should not be this hard. She knows she deserves this, all of this. She deserves to have to carry and raise this _thing_, she deserves to be tortured with nightmares and scarred for life. She _knows_ that. It's her penance and she should carry it out without complaint.

But Ziva David is only human. And everyone, no matter how strong, breaks eventually.

A/N: I hope this was satisfactory:) I am SO excited for tuesday!

I have a ton of homework now that school has started up again. So updates will be less frequent, sorry.

Love you all! Please please review, I live and breath them:) you don't want me to die, do you?


	18. Calculations

A/N: I changed some things in the convo of last chapter between Ziva and the OB/GYN so you should probably check that out quickly before reading this:) thanks! And enjoy!

…

Micaela sat on the edge of the bed, wringing her hands nervously. She had been finally been left alone, but knew it would be short lived.

As if on cue, the door to the hospital room flung open, and the two people she loved most rushed into the room.

"Mickey," she heard her father say, tears in his eyes. Her parents rushed to her bedside.

"Dad. Mom," she replied, happiness in her voice.

"Oh, honey, I am so sorry! This is all my fault-" Michelle began to fret. Micaela shook her head.

"Don't do that. Don't blame yourself for this," she told her parents, shaking her head.

"Mickey, are you okay? What did they do to you?" Marco asked, reaching out to her and attempting to swipe a piece of hair out of her face. She flinched away before his hand came into contact.

"Just roughed me up a little. Don't worry, I will be fine in a week or so," Mickey lied. Sure, she would be fine on the outside, but on the inside?

That would most definitely take a while.

They continued to talk, rejoicing in their mostly-happy reunion. The joy of the occasion was, however, overcast by the severity of it all. Sure, they may be reunited as a family again, but this could not be properly celebrated without regarding the horrible circumstances that made a reunion necessary in the first place.

…

"Marco, I need to talk to you?" Michelle whispered in her husband's ear, only seconds after their daughter had finally fallen asleep. Marco looked at her inquisitively.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing is… wrong… but I want to talk to you about this Ziva," she began. He sighed.

"Shelby-"

"Just… hear me out, okay?" she requested. When he did not reply, she continued on. "All I know is that almost fifteen years ago, you were kidnapped by the Israeli Mossad and tortured for information. You were gone for three weeks, and when you got back, you weren't the same. Your leg was broken, you were thinner, you had a gash along your cheek… I swore that I would find the bastards that did that to you and put them in their place."

"Shel-"

"Wait," she held her hand up to stop his interjection, "Let me finish. You came back changed, Marco. You jumped at every little noise, woke up sweating from nightmares… I was so scared for you. All I could do was console you and hope for the best. 

"And then… she's here. I find out that it wasn't a pack of men who tortured you, but a single woman. A woman who is now living in America, pregnant, and has rescured our daughter. Now, I'm not saying I don't appreciate what she's done, Marco, but I mean… How do you know that she's changed? How can you tell? She could just be faking-"

"No one can fake that kind of thing, Shelby."

"What kind of thing?"

"She… let's say she got a bit of a taste of her own medicine," Marco informed her.

"She was tortured."

"It wasn't just some small thing. They had her for three months, honey. Her father had given her up for dead, she felt betrayed by the only people who she every trusted… She was alone, both figuratively and literally. They tortured her for a month before they gave up."

"I'm not a fool, Marco. Even I know that they don't keep someone around who is of no use to them."

"They… they had a use for her," Marco said softly, looking away from his wife and out the widow.

"No…" she gasped, catching on.

"I'm afraid so."

"That baby… it's not that other agent's, is it?" Shelby questioned softly, her voice wavering. Marco shook his head sadly.

"They completely shattered her spirit. I thought what happened to me was bad… darling, you have no idea how much worse she got it. I remembered her to be a confident, take-no-prisoners kind of person. She was tough as nails and wouldn't take no for an answer… When I saw her again, I was shocked. I barely recognized her. Her will to live had been smashed to pieces. She's trying to pick back up and start over again, but she really is literally starting from scratch. She came back here to _nothing._ But she has people who care for her and would give their lives for her, and I think that she will eventually be able to rebuild," Marco explained.

"And the baby?"

"She… is keeping it. In her head, it's some kind of screwed up penance for her sins. She thinks that she deserves to have to raise a child she couldn't love…"

"But she will. She will love it. I mean it's still a part of her… She has to love her baby," she insisted.

"I know that she will. But in the mean time… she will go on thinking of it as a curse, not a blessing."

"It's so sad," she said, an empathetic expression on her face.

"I know. Now you see why I forgive her?"

"Of course," Shelby replied. She reached over for her husband's hand and they sat together, staring out of the window, while, unbeknownst to them, Micaela was trying to come to terms with everything she had just heard.

…

Ziva sat at home, a calendar in front of her, double and triple-checking her math. This couldn't be right… she didn't want it to be right.

She had been rescued on the 30th of September. It was now November 5th. Four months ago would have been early to mid July…

If her math was right- which was most probable, considering she had quadruple checked it and had still come up with the same answer- then this thing growing inside of her… it was Saleem's. He was the first to ever do it. It wasn't long after her capture when he started doing it. It was for business and pleasure both, and had ceased occurring when he decided she was of no use.

It had to have been the middle of August by the time the others started. It couldn't have been theirs.

The only explanation was that it was Saleem's.

She didn't know what difference it made. She knew it was one of theirs- so why should it make such a difference whose?

Because, she reasoned, Saleem was their leader. He called the shots; he controlled everything.

And for those horrid three months, he had controlled _her._

Now, she was realizing that, while he may be dead, his reign of terror over her mind, body, and soul has not been overthrown. He was still there, with her…

He was inside her body, and inside her mind, and her soul… well her soul was the only true thing he didn't still have a choke-hold on.

No. No, her soul belonged to the ones she loves, the ones who she has currently lent it out to, so they can piece it back together again.

A/N: Sorry for the wait. I'm also sorry for the quality of this- it's midnight and I'm tired and just want to sleep.

What did you think of the revelation? I would really like to know. Thanks so much to pirate-princess1, ZivaFan2481, allinthesocks92, Ashlight11, Zivarocks44, HAZMOT, Tiva lovah (who has nothing to be afraid of because, while the internet does have it's fair share of creeps, it's also got a lot more decent people:D), Violet, Robern, and Zivaleh DaVid for the great reviews:)


	19. Questions

All she wanted was alcohol. She just wanted to go drink her troubles away, and forget them for just one night. She longed for the dull feeling that being drunk gave her. She just wanted to _escape_…

But alas, she is pregnant. And as much as she doesn't like it, she's not going to condemn this child to a life with a disability.

And so she sits in front of the TV, trying to distract herself from the matter at hand. The television, however, does not captivate her interest. She doesn't want to think about anything right now.

That's why, when she hears a knock on her door, she ignores it. Whoever it is most likely wants to talk. Talking… it would take all of the minimal energy left in her. She doesn't think she's up to talking.

"Ziva! Ziva I know you're in there," Tony calls. Ziva sighs in frustration.

"No one is home!" she called back.

"Alright, thank you, I'll be going now," he replied sarcastically.

"I do not want to talk, Tony," she shouted to him.

"Well good, neither do I! I brought the Sound of Music and Chinese food. Now open up!" he hollered. She gave huffed as she stood up and trudged to the door.

"Fine," she mumbled, annoyance coloring her tone.

"Thanks," he replied as she swung open the door, "You look like hell, Ziva," he observed.

"Why thank you, Tony. You sure know how to make a woman feel good," she told him sarcastically.

"Relax, Ziva. I mean emotionally. You're a disaster."

"That is not any worse of an insult," she mumbled as he set the bag of Chinese food on her counter.

"I'm not trying to be mean, Ziva. Just trying to help."

"Your snippy comments are of no help to me."

"Jeez, Ziva. When they say pregnant women have bad hormones, they aren't kidding!" Tony joked. Ziva frowned.

"Can we please _not_ talk about the pregnancy?" she asked him. She sounded annoyed and yet was very sincere in her request.

"Why? Did something happen?" Tony inquired, his eyes going wide. He was trying to not worry about her… but it was no use. She was his partner; it was in his nature to worry about her.

"I met with my OB/GYN," Ziva told him.

"Oh my gosh, what happened? Is something wrong?" Tony interrogated.

"No, nothing is wrong. The fetus is a little small for it's age but that is due to the malnutrition. As long as I keep eating healthily, there should be no complications."

"Did you find out the gender?" Tony asked. Ziva shook her head.

"No."

"I thought you could find out around three months. Hasn't it been three months?" Tony pushed.

"I told her I didn't want to know… And it's been four."

"Why don't you want to know?" Tony inquired.

"Because it is not of importance, Tony! Would you please stop asking questions?"

"Ziva, I just want to make sure everything is alright. Did you get any ultrasound photos?"

"No, I did not."

"But Ziva, it's your baby! Why would you not want pictures of your baby?"

"Stop using that word! This thing is _not my baby!_" she yelled at him.

"Yes it is-" he tried to insist.

"No, it is _not!_ This thing," she gestured to her stomach, "Is not _mine!_ It is his spawn! It is a monster, just like its father…" she trailed off, tears of anger accumulating in her eyes.

"Ziva, it's no monster," he tried to tell her in a calming voice, "It is a gift."

"This is no gift!" she yelled at him, "You have no idea what it's like!"

"You're right, I don't. But Ziva, what I do know is that this is an innocent child you are talking about!"

"I… I can't raise this child!" she cried, a tear slipping out of her eye as she gripped the countertop to prevent herself from collapsing.

"It's not like it's going to be it's father-"

"You don't know that! You do not know that it will not turn out to be some demon… I can't have his child!"

"Ziva…" he began, pulling her in for a hug. He was surprised when she did not resist; she simply collapsed into his embrace, letting him hold her up. He dragged her over to the couch.

"I… I can't…" she stuttered, choking back sobs as the dam shattered and the reservoir of her tears emptied onto his shirt.

"Shh… it's okay. I've got you. It's okay," he soothed her, rubbing her back softly.

"I d-don't w-want to d-do this," she sobbed.

"I know, Ziva. I know."

"I can n-not wake u-up every m-morn-ning and look into his e-eyes," she cried, "I can not l-love something th-that is h-his." The image of the small boy with dark, malicious eyes filled her brain.

"Ziva, this baby is not his. It is yours. He is _dead_, this baby… you will love your child, Ziva. It doesn't matter who its father is. It is _yours," _Tony tried to assure her. She just continued to cry into his shirt. The sobs racked her petite frame. They were long overdue; they had been a long time coming. All of her sorrow and pain in that hellhole and all of her sorrow and pain after her rescue had just accumulated and accumulated… until it was too much.

She cried until she was literally out of tears. Only when she could cry no longer, did Tony speak again.

"This baby is innocent, Ziva. It will never know its father. You will love your baby just as much as I do," he assured her, placing his hand on her swollen abdomen. She looked up at him with her blotchy eyes.

"You love it?" she asked. Tony smiled at her.

"Yes," he replied, his voice soft and compassionate.

"How? I mean you've never met it. You don't know what it will be like… And you hated its father."

"I don't need to know what it will be like. It is your child, Ziva. It is half you, of course I love it," he told her, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Ziva smiled slightly… and then her eyes widened.

Was that his way of saying that he loves her?

"Tony…" she whispered softly, trailing off at the end.

"What?" he asked, puzzled. Ziva looked away.

"Never mind," she told him. Tony frowned.

"Ziva, please don't shut me out. I just want what's best for you and your child."

"Perhaps I should not raise it, Tony," Ziva told him, her eyes pained.

"What?"

"_If _it is as… innocent… as you insist it is… Then it deserves better than a mother who can never love it. I know that I should have to raise it… but Tony, is it really that wrong for me to not want to? It is not fair to this child to have to be raised by an ex-assassin who can't even look it in the eye," Ziva told him.

"Are you saying you want to put it up for adoption?" Tony asked her. She bit her lip.

"Maybe…" she trailed off.

"You need time to think about this," Tony observed. She nodded.

"I need to just… I don't know. Things are so damn complicated… I hate this. I just want my life to be the way it was before all of this," she sighed.

"I know. But it is no use crying over spilled milk. This is the way things are… we have to make the best of them."

"What if I do not know what the best is?" she asked.

"Then we will figure that out… together," he assured her, pulling her into his arms.

Ziva's head was spinning. Tony had changed so much…

But she couldn't get what he said of her head. _It's your child, Ziva. It's half you. Of course I love it._

She was probably just reading too much in between the lines. But the feeling inside of her when she heard this was hard to mistake…

It was a peculiar concoction of hope and longing.

She knows she does not deserve to be loved… but dammit, she wants to! She is only human, and she wants so badly to be loved… is that so wrong?

A/N: You guys have BatyaDavid to thank for kicking my butt to get this chapter up:) I hope this was good! I really liked it, despite how OOC it might have been… but seriously, we have no clue how Ziva would react in this situation.

Thanks so much to Violet, MissJess13, HAZMOT (who seems to like profiling my characters lol:D), pirate-princess1, ZivaFan2481, and Tiva Lovah for the great reviews! I really hoped you like this and please review!

Oh, and Ari's coming back on Feb 7th! Well not back, back, as in he's still dead, but they are filming new flashbacks! How exciting!


	20. Pretend

_A month later_

"Ziva?" Tony said, breaking the silence that enveloped them as the credits finished rolling. They had made it a tradition for him to come over every Sunday for movie night.

"Hmmm?" she replied, her voice muffled by his shirt. She was cuddled against his torso with his arms wrapped around her. She knew that to an onlooker they would look like a couple, but for once in her life she didn't care. She just let him hold her and protect her, something that would never have happened before all of this.

Maybe some good could come out of all this, after all.

"I think you should find out the gender," he told her. She withdrew from his embrace. She was disappointed that he interrupted this moment. She wanted to keep pretending for just a _little_ while longer.

Wait. When did she decide that she wanted to be with him? Damn pregnancy hormones were messing with her head. They made her more... mushy.

"Why?" she questioned, looking up at him.

"Because. You can't keep calling it an 'it,'" he informed her.

"Sure I can."

"But why would you want to, when you know you could find out its gender?"

"Some people like to be surprised," she told him, looking away.

"But you don't. You hate surprises," he told her sceptically.

"Tony..."

"Please, Ziva? For my sake? I'm dying of curiosity here," he practically begged, taking her hands into his.

"Fine," she caved. His responding smile was dazzling.

"Thank you. Oh, and Ziva?"

"Yes?"

"Can I come?"

_A week later_

"Alrighty, Miss David," Dr. Cameron began, as she moved the wand over Ziva's swollen abdomen, "Are you ready?"

"As I will ever be," she replied. Tony squeezed her hand. Ziva would never admit it, but it soothed her. She did not want to see it again...

She took a deep breath. _You will probably put it up for adoption,_ she tried to reason wit herself, _No reason for you to be nervous. _However, she still wasn't positive if she was going to give it away. She was caught between wanting to serve her penance, and not wanting to have to raise a monster. She could not picture his spawn looking like anything remotely human... She did not want to keep it.

"It's a girl," Dr. Cameron told Ziva, beaming at her.

A girl?

Ziva looked at the ultrasound and did a double take.

It really did look like a human. She could not believe it. She could make out a head, and legs...

And she was sucking her thumb.

Ziva had never pictured it as a girl. If she ever pictured it as a human, it was always a boy- a mini Saleem. She doesn't know what to think, anymore. She can't... she is shocked.

"A... a girl?" she asked, seeking confirmation.

"Yes," the doctor replied.

"A-are you sure?" she stuttered.

"Positive," Dr. Cameron assured her.

Ziva couldn't take her eyes off of the picture. She is a child. She is _his_ child, but a child nonetheless Never before had Ziva considered this...

"Ziva?" Tony asked, his voice worried.

"It's a girl," she told him, dumbfounded.

"I know. I heard," he grinned.

"Would you like me to print out the ultrasound pictures?" the doctor offered. Ziva bit her lip.

"I... uh... Sure. Thanks," she accepted. The doctor printed out the image and handed it to Ziva.

She held the picture in her hands, staring at it with wide eyes. She rubbed her thumb over the image of the child. In that moment, there were only a few things she was absolutely sure of. One, she could not continue to openly hate her. She may be his daughter, but she was still a child. Ziva knew what it was like to grow up without feeling the security of love. If she was going to raise his daughter (which she was- that was the other thing she was sure of), she was going to have to at least attempt to hide her resentment at the whole situation. She needed to at least _pretend_ to love her.

And looking at the picture of the life inside of her, she wondered if it would really be that hard.

A/N: Guess what? We've reached the 20th chapter! Yes, it is short, but I updated yesterday so...

I hope you liked it:) I wrote it while watching football, so I was sort of distracted. And yes, I did get tired of writing Ziva-hating-on-baby scenes. I just want her to realize that everything tony told her was true... and quickly. So sorry if the next few chapters seem rushed. I think she'll have the baby within the next four or so chapters.

Oh and I've been calculating some statistics for my story Innocence Corrupted, and it was out of sheer curiosity that I decided to do it for this story too. So here are the shocking results: For chapter eighteen, 98% of people who read the chapter did NOT review. Isn't that insane? I mean you spend valuable time writing and trying to update a story frequently. You would think that people could take a minute of their lives to give me some feedback.

So yeah sorry for the rant, that's been a long time coming. Thanks to **pirate-princess1**, **Sammy jo**, **HAZMOT**, **Batya**, **Zivarocks44**, **Tiva Lovah**_**, **_**Aquasm**, **Teeny**, **Violet, **and** Zivafan2481 **for reviewing:)


	21. Truth

It was late. The only light in the wide room came from her desk light. In all honesty, she didn't want to go home. She was procrastinating, trying to find something else to do so she wouldn't have to go home and sleep.

Because sleep meant nightmares.

They had been gone for a while, but they were back now, with two or three per night. She woke up sweating, scared half to death after each one.

Sighing, she stood up and gathered her things, flipping off the desk lamp. She could not put this off any longer- she needed to sleep.

…

She knocked for the fifth time on his front door. When no one came to the door, she decided it was hopeless. He was probably asleep, and most definitely did not want to see her at 12:30 in the morning.

She turned on her heels and began to walk back down the hallway, but was stopped when she ran directing into someone else rounding the corner.

"Tony!" she exclaimed in surprise.

"Hey," he replied, equally surprised, "What are you doing here so late?" he asked. _Damn_, she cursed, _how did I not think of an answer to this question…? I mean I show up at his door in the middle of the night, he's probably going to want to know why I'm here._

"I, uh…" she trailed off, unsure of what she should say.

"Would you like to come in?" he asked, not waiting for her answer. He noticed relief automatically spread across her face.

"Yes," she replied with certainty. He unlocked the door and ushered her inside his apartment. He hung his coat up, removed his shoes, and sat his keys down before turning to face her.

"Ziva, I need you to tell me what you're doing here," he told her. She looked away from him.

"Well, I was in the neighbor hood-" she began, but Tony cut her off.

"The truth, Ziva," he pressed.

"You know what, never mind. I'll just be going now," she replied, trying to push past him so she could leave through the door. He stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

"Not going to get you out of answering the question, Zee-VAH," he reminded her.

"Really, Tony, it's nothing. I don't know why I came," she lied. He was not fooled.

"Ziva, you can tell me. When have I ever judged you or refused to help you?" he asked. She sighed. He had a good point.

"Fine. I haven't been… sleeping well lately," she forced out.

"Nightmares?" he questioned. She nodded ever so slightly.

"I am tired of them, Tony. I just…" she trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"Yes, Ziva, you can sleep here with me tonight. You don't even need to ask. My bed is always open," he promised her, but then his eyes grew wide, "Wait, no, I didn't mean it like that! I meant that I would always let you sleep with me- wait- no, always let you…" he fought to get back on his feet, but in truth was just digging himself into a hole. Luckily for him, Ziva laughed.

"I know what you mean, Tony. And thank you."

...

Ziva laid awake with Tony's arms around her. They had started out on separate sides of the bed, but in his sleep, Tony had inched closer and closer until she was completely wrapped up in his arms. At first, Ziva had wanted to throw his arms off of her, but upon realizing how wonderful it made her feel, she decided that she could keep them there. Tony would not have to know.

For now, she could enjoy it.

She didn't know how she was going to tell the rest of her family about the gender of the life inside of her. She wasn't particularly sure what to do, though. Should she tell them all individually? Or get them together as a group? How would they react? 

The latter was a stupid question, she knew. They would be supportive, happy for her. They would not see this as a sign of shame.

She thought back to when she told them all about the pregnancy a few months ago.

_November 19__th__, 2009_

_The stairs creaked under her weight as she descended them. Gibbs didn't look up from his work. The boat was gone, sent to Amira as a present. He hadn't yet started another one, and was currently working on a birdhouse._

_She pulled up a chair and sat down next to him. _

"_Gibbs," she said softly. He sat down the sandpaper and looked up._

"_What brings you here so late?" he questioned._

"_I asked Tony to drive me here after I was discharged from the hospital."_

"_Where's DiNozzo now?" Gibbs inquired._

"_Outside in the car."_

"_He could have come in," Gibbs replied._

"_I know… but I needed to do this on my own," Ziva answered, looking down at her lap and wringing her hands._

"_What's wrong, Ziver?" he asked her, tilting her head back up to look at him. Her eyes were full of tears as she placed her hands on her abdomen absentmindedly._

"_I… God, Gibbs, I can't believe it… I'm still trying to process it myself…" she trailed off, looking away again. _

"_You're pregnant," Gibbs stated. It was not a question, rather an observation and statement of fact. Ziva's head shot up to look at him, shock written all over her expression._

"_Who told you?" she interrogated. _

"_You did. Just now," Gibbs replied, a small smirk gracing his face. Ziva frowned._

"_That's an awfully big gamble to take, Gibbs. What made you suspect?"_

"_You have been absentmindedly rubbing your belly since you came down here. And… I can just tell," he replied._

"_Oh yes, forgive me, I forgot. You are Gibbs, and you know all," she teased him. Gibbs could tell that her heart was not into it, though. He could see the unshed tears in her eyes._

"_Oh, Ziver…" he whispered, concern and sadness in his voice, "Come here." He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her unusually petite torso. He noticed that she was shaking. _

"_I don't know what to think Gibbs! I am not cut out for this! I cannot kill it but I do not think that I can raise it, either… I don't know what to do-" she fretted, a sob choking off her words._

"_You will be a great mother, Ziva," he promised her._

"_How, Gibbs? How could I be a good mother when I can barely even look the child in the eye without seeing him?" she cried, burying her face in his shirt._

"_You don't know how your baby is going to look, Ziva. He or she could be the spitting image of their mother," he tried to soothe her._

"_Baby! Gibbs, I don't… this is not a baby… And it could end up looking exactly like its father! Then what do I do?" she exclaimed._

"_You can always put it up for adoption, Ziva," he pointed out._

"_No. No, I need to keep it… I need to."_

"_Why?"_

"_I just do, Gibbs! This is part of my penance, for everything I've ever done wrong in my life! I need to go through with this!" she yelled at him, pulling away from his embrace, the tears pouring down her cheeks faster with each passing second. Her entire body was shaking, and she could barely hold herself up._

_He wanted to tell her that it would be okay. He wanted to tell her that her baby was not an "it" or a monster. He wanted to remind her that she had served her penance already. But he realized that she simply could not take his words to heart in this state of mental instability._

_She took a few shaky breaths, but it did nothing to calm her. She felt like she was going to collapse. Gibbs saw this, and guided her back onto the stool. He took her hands and looked at her straight in her wet eyes._

_She looked away in shame. _

"_Ziva, look at me," he commanded. She raised her head and met his piercing but loving gaze. "You're gonna be okay," he assured her._

"_I am so ashamed," she whispered, "Now everybody will know… what they did to me. They will be disgusted to know how defiled and used and filthy I am… I didn't want anybody to know that they did that, Gibbs! No one will ever see me the same way!" she said distressfully._

"_Ziva," he began, "They __**will**__ be disgusted, but they will be disgusted with Saleem and his men, not with you! You will always be Ziva to them, at least to the people who truly matter," he promised her._

"_You are not disgusted with me?" she asked, her eyes wide with disbelief._

"_Of course not, Ziver. Of course not."_

_And he pulled her in for another hug._

…

_Late October_

_She was met by a wall of loud music as she entered Abby's lab. The smell of Caf-Pow filled her nostrils, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. She needed to get over this irrational fear. Her job requires spending quality time in Abby's lab, so getting over this fear was a necessity._

_She tried to force it from her mind and focus on the issue at hand._

"_Abby!" she called over the music. Abby whirled around, pigtails flying. Her face brightened as she saw Ziva standing in her doorway. She reached for the remote and turned off the loud music._

"_Ziva! Hi! What can I do for you?" she asked, cheerily, as she withstood the urge to go and give her a huge Abby-hug. She needed to get used the new boundaries._

"_I… I need to talk to you," Ziva admitted, wringing her hands nervously. Abby's smile fell._

"_Did something happen?" Abby asked, her eyes wide. Ziva shook her head._

"_No, Abby. But… there is something that I need to tell you. And you need to keep it a secret, at least for a little while."_

"_Okay…" Abby trailed off, wary, "Come on, let's go back here," she beckoned. The women walked through the sliding glass doors into the other room. Abby locked the door and turned to Ziva, "Spill," she commanded._

"_Look, Abby… A lot of things happened this summer. And they weren't… they weren't pleasant. I hoped to never have to tell you what they did to me, Abby. You should not have to deal with that. I do not want you to ever look at me differently… But you need to know."_

"_Ziva, you're making me nervous," Abby told her. Ziva bit her lip._

"_Look… You've always been the most innocent of us all. You don't see the bad in people. And I know that you probably don't want to hear what I'm about to tell you. The men that took me… They were not good men… They did horrible things, Abby, horrible things. I do not even want to say it…" Ziva trailed off._

"_Ziva, stop procrastinating. I am a big girl. I can handle it."_

"_Abby, I'm pregnant," Ziva blurted out. She regretted the words almost as soon as she said them. She saw the shock cross Abby's face. Next came confusion… and then, worst of all, recognition._

_Horror._

"_No…" Abby whispered, her voice pained, "They… they didn't… Ziva, tell me they didn't!" she cried. Ziva swallowed, tears in her eyes._

"_I'm sorry, Abby," Ziva replied, "I cannot tell you that."_

"_Oh, God…"_

"_Abby, I know that you are probably disgusted, but-"_

"_No! Ziva, don't ever think that… I am disgusted with __**them!**__ But don't ever think that I won't do everything I can for you and your baby!" Abby assured her, not noticing Ziva's flinch at the word. "Wait… You're going to keep it, right? You're not going to… to kill it," Abby asked, praying that Ziva would not kill an innocent life. She didn't want to think of Ziva in that way._

"_I am not going to kill it, Abby," Ziva reassured her friend. Abby let out a sigh of relief._

"_Oh, thank God. For a second there I thought that you… But I should have known better. I know that you would never kill an innocent baby," she said. Ziva bit her lip._

_She didn't want to tell Abby any more about the situation. Her friendship with Abby was too important to let Abby know how Ziva __**truly**__ felt about the thing growing inside of her._

"_You're going to be a great mom, Ziva," Abby guaranteed._

_Ziva, however, wasn't so sure._

A/N: Sorry about not including the whole flashback. But I really wanted to get this published today, and so I think I will split it into two parts. The next chapter will include Tim, Ducky, and Palmer. Anybody else that needs to go on that list? If there is let me know.

I also want to give a little shout out to my good friend Batya, who recently found out that her little baby is a girl, too:) Love you, hun! You **and** little Mickey.

And **holy shit!** I got 22 reviews for the last chapter! That means the world to me everybody, and I'm sorry that I don't really reply to reviews that much. I think it was 7% of people who read reviewed, but it's okay because I still got a ton of reviews:) Thanks to (and hang on for a long list)- **runner229**, **Aunt Jo**, **Zivafan2481, bLISSful813, Zoyarose, Violet, pirate-princess1, Zivaleh DaVid, Liraeyn, Aleria, MissJess13, aquasm, Robern, wondercloud, Insanetrouble, Tiva Lovah, HAZMOT, saragiup, MTGZ, Sammy Jo, **and **Ncisfan with Tivafever **for the great reviews:) and to all of my loyal, every-chapter reviewers- you guys are amazing and I am sorry that this story can get so dark. But it will cheer up soon, don't worry:)


	22. Precious

_˙˙˙ʞɔɐqɥsɐןɟ snoıʌǝɹd ɯoɹɟ pǝnuıʇuoɔ_

* * *

><p><em>Ziva stared at the can of coke in her hands, tapping it absentmindedly. She was lost in thought. She couldn't forget the look on Abby's face when she admitted to what... what <strong>they<strong>__had done to her. She was horrified, she was disgusted, she was completely and utterly shocked. Sweet, innocent Abby should not have had to hear what they did to her._

"_You okay?" she hears someone ask. She looks up, breaking her gaze away from the soda can._

"_I am fine, McGee," she replies, smiling a little at his consideration._

"_You're lying," he insists, pulling up a chair beside her, "You know that you shouldn't tell Abby secrets. She's beside herself down there. She practically kicked me out, she was so afraid she'd spill something." Ziva tried to remain calm, but on the inside her thoughts were whirring._

"_Did she?" she asks. McGee shakes his head no, and Ziva sighs with relief. She doesn't want Tim to find out from a secondhand source. He deserves better than that._

"_She wouldn't tell me. But it's something big, I can tell... What's going on, Ziva?" he asks, placing his hand over hers gently. She smiles slightly at his sweet and gentle concern._

"_There is some news that I should tell you, Tim... And it may not be easy to hear," she begins, looking up at him. There was obvious apprehension in both of their expressions._

"_Well, you sort of **have** to tell me now, Ziva," he replied. He chuckled a little, attempting to lighten the mood. _

"_I, uh... Tim, I am pregnant," she replied, looking at him nervously. At first his eyes widened._

"_Oh, my gosh..." he trailed off, "Did you tell him yet?" Ziva's eyes narrowed in confusion._

"_Did you tell Tony yet... wait. That's assuming that you slept with **Tony** and not anyone else... It **is** DiNozzo's kid, right? Unless you have a boyfriend that I'm not aware of-" he rambled, digging himself farther into a hole with every word. Ziva flipped her hand around to grasp his, getting his attention._

"_McGee, stop. It is not Tony who did this..." she trailed off. He frowned._

"_Well then who-" he began to ask, before his eyes widened in recognition. He pulled his hand away from her and stood up, running his now-freed hands down his face. "Oh, Ziva..." Ziva looked away from him, saddened by his obvious disgust. She was so sure that he, like the others, would not be disgusted in her after hearing this. It was obvious now that he was. _

"_I did not want anyone to find out... I wish that I had not had to tell you. You deserve better than to have someone... like me... on your six. I foolishly hoped that I could keep it a secret, Tim, you were never meant to find out about this! And now the damage is done. You can no longer look at me without being horrified in what I have done, and I don't expect you to. I'm sorry," she said. McGee just stood there, shocked at what he was hearing. It took him a second to process what she was saying and to realize what she must be thinking. He shook his head violently, unable to find his voice. He pulled her in towards him and crushed her in a firm hug, hoping she would let the actions speak for themselves. _

_She flinched and stiffened when he touched her; she had not been expecting him to do that. After ten seconds or so, he stood back and placed his hands on her shoulders, gently sitting her back down in the chair. He sat down in front of her._

"_Ziva David, how in the **world** could you possibly think that I would be disgusted with you after hearing this?" he asked her, his voice and eyes full of emotion._

"_Because, you **should be!** Tony and Gibbs and Abby... They weren't disgusted and it didn't make sense to me! They should have been! You all should never want to touch me again-"_

"_Don't say that," he practically begged her, "Never ever say that again, do you hear me? We love you so much, Ziva. We could never react like that."_

"_I thought... that when you pulled your hand away..." she began, her brows knitted together and her voice faltering. Tim shook his head._

"_I was shocked at what I heard. I never imagined that happening to you. And now that I think about it, it's not rocket science and I should have realized it sooner... But I didn't want to ever picture that happening to you. **Ever**. And now that I know it did... It hurts me to hear what they did to you. But I could **never** be disgusted with you. I pulled my hand away because I... I just did. It was involuntary. You're like a sister to me, Ziva. I am not disgusted. And what do you mean by 'be horrified at what I have done?' This is not your fault! This is **nothing** that you've done."_

"_I should have fought harder! I shouldn't have let them degrade me like that! Tim, I... I did some of it willingly! I was so hungry, and so weak, and they wouldn't give me food unless I..." Her voice faded away; she was unable to finish the sentence._

"_That is not willingly, Ziva. That is you having your choice taken from you. That is you doing what you can to survive. If you hadn't, you wouldn't be here with us today," Tim corrected her. A faint smile graced her lips._

"_Thank you for this," she replied after a moment of silence. He leaned in and placed a kiss on her cheek._

"_Anytime, Ziva. Anytime," he promised._

"_I do not deserve such good friends."_

"_Sure you do. And we are not friends, we are family. **That, **I am certain of."_

"_Toda," she replied._

"_So... Girl or boy?"_

…

"_My dear, something is bothering you."_

"_How can you tell?" Ziva sighed, finding it useless to fight with the doctor._

"_I just can," Duckt replied and smiled slightly. "Now, tell me what it is and what I can do to help."_

"_There is nothing you can do for me at this time," she replied._

"_But you foresee the need of my assistance sometime in the near future?" he questioned. She nodded._

"_Perhaps."_

"_My dear, I would appreciate it if you could abstain from ominousness, especially because you know I will find out the truth eventually," he advised._

"_It's harder than you think," she replied, her eyes beginning to well up. She didn't know **why,** exactly, this was happening, but it was. Today had been a very emotionally tiring day. First Abby, then Tim, and now Ducky? She was exhausted and tired of having this conversation._

"_How so?" he questioned. She sighed._

"_It's not something that anyone would want to admit."_

"_Again with the ominousness," he smirked._

"_Look, Ducky... You have always been there for me. You believed in me even when others didn't. I have no reason to believe that you won't be there for me now," she began, "So I will tell you. Ducky... I am pregnant by one of my captors. And the sad thing is... I don't even know which." Her bluntness shocked even her. Ducky blinked once and leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath._

"_I am so sorry that this happened, my dear," he told her sincerely. She smiled slightly, but it was not genuine. The smile never even came **close** to touching her eyes. Instead, a tear leaked out and fell down her face._

"_Now, now, Ducky. Gibbs would be ashamed of you," she tried to joke, and she laughed nervously and unenthusiastically._

"_Maybe this baby could be a good thing, Ziva," he suggested._

"_How? How could this be a good thing? This is no baby! This is a monster! And this monster is no gift!" she cried._

"_I think that as you go on, Ziva, you will realize that he or she is the biggest gift the universe could have ever given you. Just you wait, my dear, and you will see."_

_End flashback_

Ziva smiled and caressed her swollen stomach, realizing that Ducky had been right. She didn't know how she could have ever hated the life growing inside of her. She had been dead certain that Ducky had been wrong, but she knew now that this pregnancy was anything but a curse. She had been sure that the child would be a monster, Saleem's devil spawn, but she was wrong. This child was innocent, beautiful, and _hers._ It was a gift.

All of a sudden, she cried out. Tony, startled from his sleep, sat up in bed, looking around frantically for the source of the commotion. Seeing the expression on Ziva's face, he instantly became worried. He flicked on the light.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing... I just... Could swear I _felt _something move just now," she replied, wonder filling her voice and her eyes.

"You mean... she's kicking? She's moving?" he asked, excitement beginning to seep through his carefully guarded tone. She smiled broadly.

"I... I think so, Tony! I can feel her kicking!" she answered, awestruck, "There it is again!" Tony's face broke into a huge, silly grin.

"That's great, Zee-VAH!" he exclaimed, leaning over and kissing her on the cheek in a spontaneous celebratory move. At first he was about to slap himself. Had he ruined the moment? But when all she did was smile back and him and look down at her bump, he internally sighed with relief. He tried to push the hope that began to fill his heart at her lack of objection. They didn't need to be complicating things now.

Ziva, meanwhile, was oblivious to Tony's inner struggle. She was too busy looking down at her bulging abdomen. She placed her hands gently on it and cradled it involuntarily.

"Hear that, tateleh? I can feel you moving! Your Ima can feel you kicking her, you little ornery pest," she cooed, her eyes filling with tears of happiness. The word _pest_ was not spoken as it was normally. She said it with love in her voice.

Tony was sure he had never heard her speak to anyone with _that much_ adoration in her voice.

"Whoa! You are one strong little girl, precious," she laughed. Ziva was filled with love for the life within her. She no longer could remember just _why_ she had been so certain that it was cruel. Ziva knows that it is nothing of the sort. The child is a gift. The child is something to cherish. The child is_ hers, Ziva's, daughter._

She is her baby girl.

A/N: ...Sorry for being so cliché as far as the kicking thing goes. But I felt that this story was too depressing. It needed a little bit of hope for the future. This scene was going to be way farther into the story, but I was sick of the depressing stuff. I'm sure you guys were too.

I hoped this was good:) i'm actually rather proud of it, if I do say so myself:)

Thank you to **Violet**, **Allison**, **Tiva Lovah**, **HAZMOT**, **Liraeyn**, **Zivaleh David**, **runner229**, **pirate-princess1**, **Ncisfan with Tivafever**, **Jenny**, **ncisXpsych12345**, **Zivafan2481**, and **Robern** for the awesome reviews:)

I want to name Ziva's daughter something special. I want it to be uncommon but not too unique. I sort of want it to be hebrew. Any suggestions?

And one last thing (if you are Lord of the Rings nerd you will get this): I almost laughed when having Ziva address her baby as precious. It get freaking pictures of Gollum... *shiver*


	23. Always

Tony couldn't fall asleep, not after the scene that had just transpired. He couldn't stop thinking about Ziva and her baby girl.

He was beyond thrilled that she finally truly saw the gift that her daughter was. He had been doubt that she would ever be able to bring herself to.

Her words kept echoing in his brain. "You are one strong little girl, precious." _Precious._ He doesn't remember ever hearing Ziva say that word before, _ever._

His eyes can not be torn away from the beautiful woman lying beside him. He watches her chest move up and down, and wishes that he could just hold her now and every night to come. He wants to hold her like he did the first night she was back.

Tony felt like he had aged ten years within the last few months. Ever since that fateful day in Abby's lab when the news of Ziva's supposed death reached his ears and he threw himself into a crazy-ass suicide revenge mission, his clown mask has been dropped. He had to grow up, and fast. When he first saw her sitting across from him, he was shocked and so inexplicably happy and hopeful. But that hopefulness for him living to see Ziva and his relationship turn back to the way it used to be soon faded. The look in her eyes was empty and broken.

"I am ready to die," she had said. Those words had completely devastated him and confirmed his suspicions that maybe, even though she was still alive, perhaps they may have lost her. Perhaps they were too late.

God, he was so afraid that they were too late.

His suspicions were only confirmed that first night back, when she confessed her desire to finish her supposed "penance."

These past few months, Tony had been on a mission- Operation Bring Ziva Back. Bring back her hope, her love for life, her happiness... He dedicated his life to trying to make her see that live was _worth living,_ and that her daughter deserved a chance.

Now that the ultimate goal has been reached, he doesn't know what to do. He's left with all of these accumulated feelings and emotions and no cause to devote them to.

He's gradually become attached to both Ziva and Baby Ziva. Those emotions... now that he had taken a step back, he was able to see exactly what those emotions were.

Love.

He curses himself for allowing this to happen. But what is he supposed to do? He can't just _stop_ loving her. He wants more than anything to be there for her and this baby. Tonight had filled him with newfound hope that maybe, _just maybe,_ she would let him.

He didn't know what he would do if she didn't.

He wants to wake up like this, next to her, for the rest of his life. He knew it would completely ruin his reputation of the commitment-fearing playboy, but for once he really didn't care. He was too emotionally invested in this now to be able to pack up and leave.

She couldn't raise this baby on her own. Well maybe she could, but he didn't her to have to. He wanted that little girl to have a _father,_ dammit! And Ziva... please, God, let Ziva give him a chance. He needed this more than anything.

He loved her, and he didn't know when he fell. He didn't even _recall_ the falling process... Just hitting the firm ground of reality- _hard._

"Please give me a chance, Ziva," he whispered to her sleeping form, "Please."

…

The nightmares came again that night, seeking to destroy her previous happiness. Despite Ziva's unwillingness to let them do such a thing, they still effected her in more ways than she cared to admit.

When she was shaken from the grasp of the nightmare, she was surprised to find that Tony's arms were around her. For a second they were _his _arms, and for a second she struggled against them. When reality finally hit her, she allowed herself to just relax into his body. The tears running down her cheeks were gently wiped away by a soft caress. He ran his hands up and down her arms comfortingly.

"Shh... It's okay. I've got you, I've got you," he whispered soothingly in her ear, "I've got you both. Nothing's going to happen, you're safe, everything's okay." Her labored breathing began to even out.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"I'll always be there for you and your baby, Ziva. Always, I promise," he assured her.

Ziva pondered his words as they fell asleep once more. She was eternally grateful for all of his support and help. But where does that leave them? Where does that put their confusing relationship now?

He seems to have gotten over his fear of commitment. She wants him to be there with her for the rest of her life. She knows that he will, if he lets her.

And she is more than willing to let him. Question was- did he long for their relationship to be something more just as much as she did?

…

_The next night_

It was late. She shouldn't be here. Ziva was probably already asleep.

She knocked anyway.

From behind the door, she could hear grumbling and footsteps approaching- no turning back now. The door swung open to reveal Ziva in sweatpants and a tank top.

"Micaela!" Ziva exclaimed, surprised, "Well, this is a surprise. Please, come in." Mickey nodded, smiling slightly at Ziva. They both went to sit on the couch. Ziva looked at her expectantly, and it donned on her that she should probably say something; explain her actions, maybe.

"I needed to talk to you. I've needed to talk to you for quite some time, actually, I just never worked up the nerve..." she trailed off.

"Whatever it is, you do not have to be nervous," Ziva promised.

"It's not exactly something that is easy to ask..."

"So it's a question?"

"Partly."

"Mickey, you can tell me," Ziva urged. Mickey looked down at her lap.

"I... overheard a conversation a while ago at the hospital between my parents. They said some things... that I wasn't sure if I wanted to believe. And I need to hear it from you," the girl began. Ziva sucked in a breath, not sure if she liked where this was headed.

"I promise that I will tell you the truth, Micaela. But you need to ask the question."

"Did you torture my father?" she asked bluntly. Ziva took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Look, Mickey-"

"Did you or didn't you?" Micaela interrupted, a bit of impatience and anger in her voice.

"I did, and it is not something I am proud of," Ziva answered.

"That's all I needed to know," Mickey replied, standing up.

"Wait, at least let me explain-" Ziva began, grabbing the teenager's arm. Mickey pulled it away.

"There is nothing to explain."

"Are you not at least a little curious as to _why_ your father and I are friends now?" Ziva asked. Mickey paused, and Ziva smiled softly. "I thought so. Sit back down, and let me explain," she requested. Mickey sank back into the couch, prepared to hear Ziva out.

"Okay. I'm listening."

Ziva proceeded to explain everything. She explained her childhood and her longing to please her father, and how that led to her doing things that she never should have done. She explained Somalia, and her so called "penance." She explained how she and her father met again, and how Marco, out of the kindness of his heart, had forgiven her, and embraced her as a friend.

Micaela was definitely her father's daughter, because by the end, she had forgiven Ziva as well.

"Thank you for finding me. And I'm sorry for being so... accusatory," Mickey apologized after Ziva finished her story.

"I deserved it. And you know that I will always be here, if you ever need support in getting over what... happened."

"My dad found out, you know... About what they did to me?" Ziva's eyes filled with sympathy.

"How did he react?" 

"Not... not very well," Mickey replied, shaking her head.

"Hey, well... at least he cares. My father did not even spare me a second glance. He has not contacted me since I got back. I know he knows, he always has people spying on me. But he has not even called," Ziva said sadly.

"Maybe he just does not know what to say?" Mickey suggested. Ziva, not in the mood to explain the complicated inter-workings of her and her father's relationship that even _she _wasn't even sure of, nodded.

"Maybe," she replied, halfheartedly.

"It's late, I should get back home before I'm missed," Mickey said, standing up. Ziva nodded and walked her to the door. "Thank you for... explaining." Ziva smiled in acknowledgment.

"Goodnight," she said, before shutting the door.

A/N: Was this good? I honestly don't know. I didn't like it much. But then again I never like my own writing so... Review and let me know?

Thanks to Broken Piece of the Puzzle, ncisxpsych12345, Kikilia14, Zivaleh DaVid, Violet, Zivalover, pirate-princess1, Miss Suave, Tiva Lovah, HAZMOT, ZivaFan2481, Aquasm, liraeyn, Batya, teeny, and Robern for reviewing. And guess what? TWO HUNDRED REVIEWS BABY!


	24. Care

"She's too small."

These three words were all that came out of Dr. Cameron's mouth when the image of Ziva's baby appeared on the ultrasound screen.

"What do you mean too small?" Tony asked, his brow furrowed with worry.

"I am not satisfied with the size of the bab- fetus," the doctor said, catching herself a little too late. She was aware of Ziva's preference for not calling her child a "baby," and while she really wanted Ziva to see what a gift her child was, she wanted to also respect the mother's wishes. Surprisingly, she saw Ziva shake her head.

"Doctor, it is okay. I get it now. She is a precious gift," she informed the doctor on her change of heart, "Aren't you, tateleh?" she said, speaking to the baby growing within her. "I may not have asked for this to happen to me. She was conceived through violence instead of love, but that doesn't mean I should condemn her like I have been doing. She's the only good thing that came out of this horrid summer. I intend to love and cherish her, every day for the rest of my life. She is my baby, Doctor. I am sorry that it took me so long to realize it." Dr. Cameron blinked, surprised but thrilled. A wide grin spread on her face.

"I'm so happy for you, Ziva. But… she's too small. You _have_ been taking care of yourself, haven't you?" she checked. Ziva's eyes flitted away from the doctor's momentarily.

"Yes," she answered softly. Dr. Cameron put her hands on her hips.

"I don't believe you," she informed Ziva, "How much food to you eat?"

Ziva bit her lip. "I don't know… There are some days when I cannot keep food down. Other times I just feel sick at the sight of it."

"You're five and a half months pregnant, Ziva. You've barely gained more than 10 pounds since you first came to me. It's not healthy, for you _or_ your baby. You're due April 11th, but at this rate, she will be too underdeveloped to be born at that time! I know it's hard but please Ziva, you need to gain some weight. I also am telling you right now that you need to be taken out of the field until the baby is born."

"But-" Ziva began to object, but the doctor held up her hand.

"It's not something that's up for debate. The field is too dangerous. You could not only endanger your baby, but your partner and team as well. I am putting my foot down on this, Agent David. I'm sorry." Ziva nodded, knowing that it was best to simply accept it. "Oh, and, one more thing. I am recommending that you stay with someone for the following three months," the doctor added. Ziva's eyes widened in confusion.

"What? Are you serious?"

"I can't stress enough the importance that you eat at least 2000 calories a day, Ziva. Your baby is not healthy, and neither are you. I don't trust that you will be able to do this on your own."

"Are you saying that you do not think I would do anything for my baby? I will do it, Doctor, I will! For her sake I will do it, on my own! I don't need someone looking over my shoulder," Ziva protested.

"I'm not saying I don't trust that you will do whatever it takes. But at this point I'm not sure if you are aware exactly how much to eat. You need someone to make sure you are doing all of this."

"I do not need a babysitter!" Ziva insisted.

"I'll do it, Ziva. Come on, it won't be that bad! We already spend almost every night together anyway, it wouldn't be that different," Tony tried to convince her. She raised her eyes skeptically.

"You are really offering to move into my apartment for three months?" she asked. On the outside, she tried to appear nonchalant. On the inside, however… Her heart filled with happiness when she heard him offer to watch over her. She couldn't believe that _anybody_ would care about her that much. Three months is a long time.

"Of course. We're partners, we take care of each other. I'm not going to let you go through this alone," he replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Ziva knew that this was where she should throw in some insult about his movie references and habits that she supposedly found annoying, but she couldn't bring herself to keep up the act. Instead, she simply smiled.

"Okay," she agreed.

…

"Ziva, can I ask you a question?" He paused the movie and turned to look at her. Ziva's heart fluttered nervously. Nothing good ever followed that sentence.

"Sure," she replied, turning to meet his gaze. He cleared his throat.

"When I offered… to stay here for the duration of your pregnancy… I wasn't expecting you to accept." Ziva's gaze dropped to her hands. She bit her lip.

"So what you are saying is that you simply offered because you felt obliged. You do not truly want to do this?" she asked, trying to keep her sadness out of her voice. Tony's eyes widened.

"NO! That's not what I meant! I meant that… I was expecting you to put up a fight. I was expecting you to argue with the doctor until you got your way. I had a whole bunch of points that I could have used in an argument with you to convince you that I needed to stay with you. I was expecting to have to fight for this, and for you to do this reluctantly. The Ziva I know would have insisted over and over again that she could take care of herself, that she didn't want to be a burden to anyone," he explained.

"So what is your point?" she asked.

"I don't know… I guess I'm just wondering what changed," he told her. Ziva looked up, making solid eye contact.

"What_ changed_ is that I am tired of being strong. Maybe… Maybe I just want someone to take care of me, for once. Maybe I do not want to do this on my own anymore. Maybe I just want to place my life in someone else's hands and not worry about it, if only for a little while. I have never really had the luxury of doing that, because I never had the luxury of being able to trust someone as much as I do you and the rest of the team. I just… I want to be able to let go and let someone else watch after me. Is that too much to ask?" Ziva wondered, her voice cracking at the end. Tony reached out and took her hand.

"No. It's not. And I promise I will take good care of you, Ziva. Just let go. You don't have to be strong anymore. You can fall, and I promise I will catch you," he vowed, "I'll always catch you."

Ziva's eyes filled with tears and she gave him a watery smile. "I do not know how to tell you how much it means to me that you are willing to do this for me," she told him, "I do not know how to thank you for this." The tears spilled down her face. Tony pulled her into his arms.

"Shhh. Don't cry. You don't have to thank me. Letting me do it is thanks enough. Please don't cry, Ziva," he practically begged.

"I am sorry, it is these stupid hormones, making me all out of whack," she tried to explain, "Hear that, tateleh? You are making Ima all messed up," she accused playfully.

"There is… one thing that I can think of that you could do to thank me," Tony told her.

"Anything," she promised.

"Don't shut me out, Ziva, please. You don't have to let me in right away and share all of your deepest secrets, but just please don't build those walls back up and keep me out," he requested. She nodded.

"I can do that," she agreed. He held her tighter, gently rubbing her back. She smiled softly.

She, of course, was worried about what she may have gotten herself into. She didn't want to shut him out, but sometimes it was for his own good. Was he ready to hear her tell him about what had happened to her there? She knew the subject would come up eventually. Her nightmares would come, and he would demand to know what it was that happened that reduced her to a sweaty, crying, crazed mess once she woke up. Was he prepared to hear all that had happened to her?

But the more pressing question was _was she prepared to tell him?_

A/N: I hope this was a good chapter:) I honestly liked it. So please tell me what you think! I really want the baby to just be born already, so sorry if the rest of the pregnancy seems rushed. I'll try to not make it that way though. And to **AliyahNCIS,** if you are reading this, I promise that any similarities between my story and yours are purely coincidental. I am trying my best not to make them too similar. But yours will always be better!

My thanks to **Kikilia14**, **HAZMOT**, **ncisxpysch1345**, **Violet**, **Tiva lovah**, **runner229**,** auntieleena**, **teeny**,** ever-winchester**, **saragiup**, and **Zivafan2481** for the great reviews!


	25. Dreams

Tony laid awake in Ziva's bed for the second time in a week. He was propped up on his left arm, his right tracing patterns on her swollen stomach. It was late and she was fast asleep, unaware of what her partner was doing.

He was still trying to grasp the fact that she was _letting him_ stay with her for the next three months. The old Ziva would have been vehemently opposed to the mere prospect of it. This new Ziva, however, accepted it with little resistance and quickly made room for him in her house and in her bed.

As much as he appreciated it, it concerned him greatly. She really had changed so much.

_At least she is past the self-hate/penance phase, Tony_, he thought to himself. That… had been unbearable, even more unbearable than watching her loathe her baby. He was immensely relieved that that, too, was over.

Touching her engorged stomach while she slept felt like something that someone who was _more_ than just a partner there to make sure she took care of herself would do. But she was asleep– she didn't have to know. He could pretend for just one minute.

He tried to brush away the feeling of emptiness that _pretending _for the next three months installed in his gut. He didn't want to _pretend_. He didn't want to go back to living by himself after these three months were over. He already dreaded the day when he would have to leave her and her baby and return to his empty, cold apartment.

No, he wasn't satisfied with just _pretending._ Tony DiNozzo was a risk-taker, usually. He had a damn good poker face. But not with relationships. He wasn't going to gamble… whatever the hell he had with Ziva away. Too risky. He couldn't lose her if she didn't feel the same way.

He was stuck between that rock and a hard place that so many other people had been in before– the friend zone. Only with them, it was the "partnership/friendship-but-potentially-something-more" zone.

He _could not_ screw this up. That was not an option.

"What do you think, Squirt?" he breathed, talking to the little girl inside of Ziva. He felt a soft kick, so soft he wasn't entirely sure that it had happened, "Whoa…" he whispered, awe in his voice, "Hey there, baby girl." He waited for another kick, but none came. "What do you think? Do you think I should tell your mommy how I feel?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle. He there was another kick, harder than the first. Tony wasn't sure how to interpret that. "Thanks, Squirt," he murmured.

"Tony?" came a sleepy voice. His eyes instantly refocused on Ziva's head. Her eyes were closed and her mouth had barely moved.

"Yeah? I'm here," he assured her. She smiled.

"Are you talking to my baby?" she asked, sounding mildly amused. Tony instantly panicked.

"Maybe… You didn't… hear… anything, did you?" he questioned, trying to keep his calm. Her eyes opened slowly.

"No. Why? Is it a secret? Oh well, I guess I will just have to have you tell me what he said, precious," she said, speaking to her stomach.

Tony smiled, relieved. "Shhh, don't tell your mommy what I said! It's a secret, remember?" he hissed playfully. Ziva laughed and caressed her stomach.

"Ima has to sleep now, precious. So if you and Tony could keep it down a bit…" she joked. Tony pressed his index finger to his lips.

"Shhh, Squirt, you don't want to mess with your mommy's sleep! We better dial it down."

"Yes, you better. This is my bed, I can very easily separate the two of you," she threatened.

Tony pressed his thumb and index finger together, dragged them across the fold where his lips met, turned the key, and threw it behind him. He then settled back down on his pillow, still facing Ziva, who then closed her eyes. A few seconds later, she heard a soft mumbling. She couldn't be sure, but it sounded like she heard Tony say, "Laila tov, my beautiful girls."

No, she must be imagining things. It was only her ears playing tricks on her.

She fell asleep trying to convince herself that she didn't _want _him to have said that, when in reality, she knew that she wanted to believe he said that above all else.

...

It was not long later that Tony awoke to the familiar sounds that only could be attributed to Ziva's nightmares. When he opened his eyes and looked over, he could tell that this one was almost as bad as they come.

_Just_ when everything was going perfectly…

Her head was thrown back, her hair strewn wildly across her pillow. Her breathing was shallow and panicked.

"_No, no, no, no…"_ he heard her whispering hoarsely and urgently.

He wasted no time in scooting over to her and taking her hand in one of his. The other hand gently swiped strands of hair out of her sweaty face and combed them back. "Ziva…" he said, calling to her, "Come on, wake up. You're safe, you're okay," he urged. Her grip on his hand suddenly tightened. Her eyes flew open, panic clouding them.

"Ava. He is hurting Ava."

"You're safe, it's okay, he can't hurt you–" he tried to calm her, but she shook her head and interrupted.

"He's hurting her, he's hurting her," she said over and over again, looking around frantically, "_Where is Ava?"_ she cried.

"Who is Ava?" Tony asked, confused.

"My baby. Where is she? _Where is she?_" Ziva demanded to know. Tony shook his head and brought her hand down on her swollen belly.

"Here she is, Ziva. Here's your baby. She's safe inside of you, okay, I promise," he told her, his voice gentle and reassuring.

"Safe?" Ziva asked, the panic leaving her eyes at once. She stroked her abdomen. "Safe…" she repeated, "She is safe…" Her eyes seemed to see the room for the first time. "Safe," she said, certainty in her voice this time.

"You okay?" he asked once the sanity returned to her eyes. He knew that she wasn't okay, but he didn't know what else to say.

"I… have not had a dream that bad in so long, Tony," she confided, her breaths coming out in pants.

Tony smiled sadly and nodded, pulling her into his arms. "I know, Ziva, I know," he told her, rubbing her back gently to soothe her. He considered asking her what had happened in the dream, but decided to change the subject, instead. She wouldn't want to talk about it. "So, I didn't know you named her," he informed her casually, "When did you decide?"

Ziva looked at him with confusion written plainly on her face. "I have not named her, Tony," she told him.

"But when you were coming out of the dream, you kept saying that he was hurting Ava. When I asked who Ava was, you told me she was your baby," he told her, gesturing to her baby bump. Ziva's eyes widened with recognition. "Do you remember that?" he asked.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Care to explain?"

"When I was little, before Eli got it into me that I would never be able to have a normal life… I used to dream of meeting my prince and getting married in a castle in a huge, puffy white gown that my fairy godmother conjured up for me. I would be his one true love and we would have a baby. I always named my baby Avalyn or Ava for short. I thought that it was the most beautiful name in the world. But Eli… when he found out… he got angry. He said that Ava was not a Hebrew name. He told me there was no use wishing for such stupid things, anyhow. I would be dead before my fortieth birthday, if I even made it that far. I should never entrust my heart to someone, because trust was a weakness. He told me there was no such thing as fairy godmothers, no such thing as magic, and no such thing as true love. He told me that I would never get what I dreamed of, so I better give it up quickly so as to not disappoint myself. I was seven years old," she admitted to Tony quietly. Tony was outraged.

"How could he? He just took your dreams and shattered them! You were seven! Seven year olds are _supposed_ to dream of their Prince coming to sweep them off of their feet and of having beautiful babies named whatever the hell they wanted to name them–" Tony began to rant. Ziva silenced him by holding up her hand.

"I know, Tony, I know."

"For what it's worth, I think Avalyn is a very beautiful name. Ava David," he said, testing the name out. _Ava David-DiNozzo,_ he thought to himself, smiling when he liked how it sounded. _Tony, stop. Do not think of such things. Do not get your hopes up,_ his subconscious scolded him.

Screw his subconscious. He liked how it sounded.

"Thank you, Tony. I think… it would be a good name for her. I looked it up when my father told me it was Hebrew, hoping that maybe he was wrong. It's Iranian and it means voice and sound," she told him, "What? I want her name to have meaning," she defended when he gave her weird look.

He shook his head, "Sorry, I didn't mean it was weird that you looked up name meanings, I was just trying to picture you when you were seven years old," he smirked. Ziva hit him.

"What exactly… was happening in your dream?" he asked her. His curiosity was getting the better of him. Ziva frowned.

"I was still in Africa, and… I had just given birth. Saleem was there, and he took her away from me," Ziva began, her voice pained, "I heard her crying, and I didn't know what was happening… All I knew was that he had my baby and he was going to hurt her…" she finished, trying her best to sound detached.

"It's okay now. She's safe with you, and you're safe with me. Sleep now, okay? We have to work tomorrow; I would rather not be mainlining coffee," he joked. She smiled. He never failed to make her feel better. She laid her head down on his chest and fell asleep with his arms wrapped around her, protecting her and her little precious baby Ava.

A/N: So yeah, I named the baby! Otherwise, this would have been a filler chapter! And are everybody else's email alerts working? Mine aren't. It's sort of annoying… I don't get any review alerts or new chapter alerts. I hope it's temporary!

To the anonymous reviewer who left 5 annoyingly rude reviews: You are certainly entitled to your (apparently multiple) opinions. Thank you for your input, but I would appreciate it if you refrain from leaving any more reviews.

Thanks to** Liraeyn**, **Robern**,** Kikilia**, **Tiva lovah**,** Vi**, **Rebecca**, **Teeny**, **Ziva-Tali-DiNozzo**,** Angelhaggis**, **pirate-princess1**,** ncisXpsych12345**, and** ever-winchester** for reviewing!


	26. Dependence

0500 the next morning found Ziva's internal alarm clock jarring her from the most peaceful sleep that she had had in weeks. She had realized that, in her sleep, she had curled up against Tony's chest. His arm was thrown lazily over her hip in a protective manner. Embarrassed, she immediately slid his arm off of her gently. She then tapped his face lightly.

"Rise and sparkle," she said, pulling him from the clutches of his sleep, "We have to get ready for work."

Tony groaned and pulled the pillow up over his ears. "First of all, Ninja, it's rise and _shine. _And second of all, why did you have to wake me? I was having a wonderful dream," he mumbled sleepily, frowning as he struggled to hang on to the images in his dream. In the end, he only remembered one specific image from his dream.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I don't remember," he half-lied. He grinned as the image filled his brain once again. It was a picture of the most joyful, beautiful thing Tony could imagine.

All he remembered about his dream was that Ziva was laughing. That alone made it a perfect dream.

"No more nightmares?" Tony asked her as she slid out of bed.

"Not after we fell asleep," she confirmed.

"Which, I might add, was only… three hours ago," he mumbled grumpily as he dragged his butt out of bed.

"I am sorry for keeping you up, Tony. I will try not to make so much noise tonight," she replied solemnly. She disappeared into the bathroom before Tony could protest. He sighed and walked up to the door.

"That's not what I meant! You can wake me up whenever you want. I don't want you to have to suffer through these alone," he assured her. He heard the sound of a toilet flushing and running water, before she opened the door and responded.

"I do not want to deprive you of sleep," she responded, picking up the toothbrush and squirting a generous amount of toothpaste on. Tony did the same.

"You can deprive me of all the sleep you want," he promised her. Ziva grinned and snorted. Tony's eyes went wide. "Okay, that really was _not_ what I meant… Not that I wouldn't like to… you know. I mean I would be okay with that. But I mean I don't think you would and plus there's rule 12, and you're pregnant. And you're Ziva and you're my partner and I don't see you like that– wait I mean, I do, sort of, maybe…" Tony trailed off, unsure of what to say to get his point across.

"You are talking yourself into a hole," Ziva observed, before spitting into the sink and washing out her mouth.

"It's _digging_ yourself into a hole or talking in circles, Ziva. And I'm sorry, nothing I seem to say has been coming out right–" he began to try to explain, but Ziva interrupted him.

"Tony. Stop. I know what you meant, okay?" she tried to assure him. He smiled.

"Good. I didn't know how else to explain it," he responded, sounding relieved. She pushed past him and went back into the room.

"I am going to change. Do not come out of the bathroom before I say you can," she directed him.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, smirking, before shutting the door. Five minutes later, Tony was brushing his teeth when she heard him call his name. He washed out his mouth before replying.

"Yeah?"

"Could you come out here for a second?" she requested, sounding a tad uncertain. Tony frowned.

"Are you decent?"

"Well, that's a rather strange question, Tony," she called back to him, sounding thoroughly confused.

"Are you always this confused with colloquial speech in the morning? It means are you dressed," he informed her.

"Yes, I am dressed. Come out here, I need you to help me with something," she replied. Tony opened the door and saw that she was standing by the bed, facing him. She wore jeans and a blouse that fit snugly over her worrisomely tiny baby-bump. He frowned.

"Yes?" he asked. She turned around.

"I need you to button this," she told him, showing him the line of buttons that ran down the back of the blouse and stopped when they reached her lower back. Tony smiled and walked towards her, freezing when he was close enough to see her back clearly.

"Ziva…" he began.

"Just button it, Tony," Ziva instructed, sounding mildly annoyed. Tony did as he was told, but he couldn't get the image of the long scars that crisscrossed her back out of his mind. These were a set of scars that he _hadn't_ seen that first night back. He knew she would not want him to acknowledge them, so he did not push. But they were not the white color that he had been expecting. These scars were pinkish and _looked_ painful, even over five months after the original pain was inflicted.

Was she not only still in _emotional_ pain over what happened to her, but _physical_ as well?

The morning sickness came a few minutes later. Tony rubbed her back and she retched, holding her hair behind her. She groaned and flushed the toilet.

"Being pregnant is a pain," she muttered. Tony smiled left the bathroom to cook something small for breakfast for the two of them while she finished getting ready. Tony growled in frustration as he tore apart the kitchen looking for food, but only managed to find cereal.

"Ziva, all you have is cereal," he called to her. She emerged seconds later, her hair pulled up in a ponytail.

"That's okay. I do not feel all that great anyway; I do not think that I could eat," she replied. Tony just shook his head and pulled out two bowls.

"Eat, Ziva," he pushed, pouring a small amount of cheerios into a bowl for her, "You don't even have milk. I swear, the first thing that we are doing after work tonight is buying you some food." Tony tried to keep the conversation light, but Ziva could see that this was, to him, a very serious matter.

_It is the reason he is here in the first place_, she reminded herself.

"Don't you normally go on runs?" Tony asked, trying to change the subject. He could see that he wasn't going to get anywhere with her on the other, not now.

"I did, before the morning sickness started. Ever since then it's been practically impossible," she complained.

"We could go on one at night, after work," he suggested. She frowned.

"_We?"_

"Look, Ziva, you wanted to be taken care of. That's what I'm doing, and that's what I _will_ be doing for the next three months."

"I did not necessarily mean I want you to be my shadow," she shook her head, shoving a handful of cheerios into her mouth upon seeing Tony's reproachful gaze at the bowl.

"I know. But what if you fell and hit your head? What if something happens?"

"I could bring a phone and call you."

"Not if you're unconscious."

"Someone would find me and take me to the hospital," she told him.

"Come on, Ziva. Please?" he asked, a child-like whine in his voice. Ziva rolled her eyes and finished off the cereal.

"You are so childish."

"Is that a yes?" 

"I do not know yet," she answered, placing her bowl in the dishwasher.

"Alright. But just keep in mind that all I want is to help you," he reminded her, placing his dish next to hers and grabbing the keys. Ziva frowned at him.

"I will let you come with me tonight if I can drive," she compromised. Tony didn't like it, but agreed.

"Fair enough," he replied, tossing her the keys. Ever a ninja, she caught them deftly without shifting or blinking her eyes. She smiled proudly and turned, walking out of her apartment with him for the first of many times. She was so glad that he was here, with her. His company was proving to be relaxing and… therapeutic. It reminded him of old times.

Tony, after all, had always been good at pretending things were perfectly fine and normal when in reality, they were as abnormal as they come. In this case, she needed that. She needed that sense of familiarity and comfort that he always carried with him. It might even be the only thing keeping her rooted here and sane. He kept her grounded.

God knows what she was going to do without him. If this was how attached she got after a day…

She already shuddered at the thought of being left alone. Ziva never thought that she would rely on a man's presence– after all, she had been raised to never do such a thing. She _definitely_ never thought that she would count on a man's presence in her bed… especially after what they did to her in Somalia. But she did. She has come to depend on Tony to be there for her, much to her resentment.

A part of her couldn't wait for him to move out, just so she could prove that she could take care of herself.

The other part, the _biggest _part, of her was dreading it, because she wasn't altogether sure that she _could._

She wasn't sure if she could live without him.

A/N: Filler chapter, sorry. Next chapter will hopefully have more interesting things in it. I'm glad that you all seem like the baby name!

Thanks to Robern, ncisXpsych, Liraeyn, Kikilia, Tiva Lovah, Zivaleh DaVid, aquasm, ZivaFan2481, Broken Piece of the Puzzle, pirate-princess, anon (where did you see "Alli Cat?" Only one person has ever called me that), Violet, Teeny, and ever-winchester for reviewing!

This may seem repetitive for anyone who reads Innocence Corrupted, but if anyone reading has recently gotten a review for a songfic that they wrote by "CriticsUnited," I may have a solution. MAYBE. PM me for more details.


	27. Comfort

The day was as slow as they come, and Tony and Ziva were both dangerously close to falling asleep on their desks. Last night's sleep deprivation had left them both quite exhausted, but it was mainly due to the extremely dull paperwork and lack of open case that made them want to just take a nap.

Tony heard Ziva's cry of frustration and the smack that immediately followed from behind him. His head shot up, looking at her in panic.

"Ziva!" he cried as he saw the pen stuck tip-first in the corkboard behind him.

"Sorry. It stopped working," she replied. Tony got up and walked over to her desk.

"Come on," he prompted, motioning for her to get up. Ziva cocked her head to the side, obeying.

"Where are we going?" she asked as she followed him to the elevator. Tony smiled at how trusting she was of him.

"Lunch. My treat," he explained. She frowned.

"But Gibbs–"

"I texted him, he told me it was fine as long as we came back," he replied. She nodded, but on the inside she was uncertain. Tony was staying with her for the next three months, she knew that, and therefore would witness her eating habits at _some_ point– and that point was bound to be _very_ soon. But she couldn't help but dread it. She normally barely even_ ate_ lunch , and her stomach rebelled against the thought of eating anything right now.

She didn't want to disappoint him, and she knew that today… today she would do just that. Nor did she want to make his job difficult, but she knew that these next three months would be more than troublesome for both of them….

…

The car pulled up in front of Ziva's favorite restaurant almost ten minutes later. Tony grinned at her as they got out of the car.

"I have not been here since I got back," she told him as he held the door for her.

"Seriously?"

"I have not gone out to eat at _all_ since I've got back," she clarified, as the hostess seated them.

"Well, that seriously has to change. We need to get some calories in that body of yours. You're eating for two now, remember?" he asked.

Ziva looked away, uncomfortable that the conversation had taken the turn she dreaded so quickly.

The waitress came up to them and asked for their order. Tony ordered a Philly cheese steak sandwich for both of them, much to Ziva's annoyance. Of course, he knew that that was the only thing from this restaurant that she ever ordered, so she really had no right to be irritated with him for ordering for her.

They kept up easy conversation between them until the food came, purposely steering clear of anything involving her eating habits. The time would come soon for them to have that discussion, and Ziva was procrastinating it while she still could.

When the food arrived, Ziva stared at the sandwich on the plate in front of her. There was a time when she would have immediately taken a bite as fast as she could, and have been able to clear the whole plate without any issue. But now… the food in front of her seemed like way too much.

How would she eat all of this?

"You going to eat?" he asked, suspicion coloring his voice. Ziva nodded, picking up the sandwich and taking her first bite. She had to admit, it tasted amazing, but by the time she was a quarter of the way through it, her stomach began to rebel at the unusually large intake of food. She sat it down.

Tony looked at her, a thousand questions in his eyes. She sighed.

"I do not want to make your job difficult, but I do not think… I do not think that I can eat all of this," she told him, her eyes begging him to understand. She did not want to explain it.

"Then eat half of it," he compromised, "We can box the rest and you can have it tomorrow."

She looked down at the food doubtfully. "I do not know… if I can even eat half," she admitted sorrowfully.

"Ziva, you need to eat! Your baby is _in danger!_" he stressed. Ziva's eyes narrowed.

"You think I do not know that?" she cried, but upon remembering that they were in a public place, she lowered her voice. "I know that I need to eat more!" she hissed, "But that is easier said than done! My stomach is not used to large intakes of food, I need to ease into this," she told him.

"_That's large?_ You've barely one hundred calories!" he cried. Ziva's cheeks went red with anger.

"They fed me _once a week _in that hellhole, Tony!" she defended, "This… this is a feast!" Tony looked at her with sorrow in his gaze.

"I'm sorry," he told her. Ziva just appeared to get even angrier.

"Don't pity me," she growled, "I do not want your pity. I want your sympathy! I want you to understand that this issue is not so easily solved! I cannot eat anymore right now, please, Tony, respect that! I would eat this if I could! I would do_ anything_ for my daughter! But I need some time, this will come in increments," she justified. Tony reached over and placed his hand on hers.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, "I'll try harder to understand. I just… I just want you to be better, Ziva. I don't like you being in pain."

Ziva smiled. "I do not like being in pain either. And while I wish that this would all just go away _right now_, these things take time. But we have time," she told him.

He shook his head, "Ava doesn't. I know that you need to do this at your own pace, and I don't want to push you, but it's important that she gets the nutrition that she needs as soon as possible. I know that you don't want her to spend the first month or so of her life in the NICU."

"Believe me, that is the last thing that I want. I hate hospitals, they always bring bad news. I do not think that I could bear to see Ava hooked up to machines, keeping her alive because… because I could not," she replied, her voice faltering at the end.

"Zi–"

"I knew that I would be a bad mother, Tony!" she exclaimed, "Look at me! She is not even_ born_ yet and I am already endangering her life and failing to protect her! I am not fit for this! Maybe it is a sign. Someone who has taken so much life should not be able to bring about some."

Tony shook his head frantically. "Ziva, don't think like that. You will be a great mother. These things… they are out of your control."

"No, they aren't! I can give her the nutrients that she needs!"

"Don't you know that if you could, you would? Isn't that what you just told me?" he contradicted.

"But it is my fault that I can't! If I had just eaten healthily when I got back–" she began to blame herself, but Tony interrupted.

"God, Ziva, please stop blaming yourself for everything! You just need to accept the fact that this is how things are right now. You may not like them, but you work with them. I will be by you, every step of the way. We'll get you healthy again. We'll do this slowly but as fast as possible. Okay?" he assured her. She nodded.

"Okay," she agreed. She would never admit it, but she had needed this. She needed him to be there to help her and encourage her.

She would never be able to repay him for this.

…

Tony opened the door of the apartment as they returned from their run. Ziva had actually been grateful for him being there. As they reached the mile mark, she had begun to tire. Of course, she was too proud to admit that she was winded from running a simple_ mile._ She used to run five or six every morning!

Tony had sensed that she was tiring, and had purposely begun to pant and stopped soon later, doubled over. He was actually perfectly fine, but he knew that Ziva would rather die of exhaustion than admit that a mere mile had tired her so. He saw a flash of gratefulness in her eyes when he suggested that they turn around and walk back to her apartment, but it was gone as quickly as it came. She faked annoyance and they doubled back, returning to her apartment in about twenty minutes.

When they arrived back, Tony helped Ziva wash the dishes from their dinner. They had gone out after work to the supermarket to pick up food to stock Ziva's kitchen with. They had then swung by Tony's apartment and picked up all of the food that they could from his house, since it would be of no use to him where it was. He had then insisted that they make pancakes (breakfast for dinner was one of his favorites). She had eaten two, to his delight.

"Ziva, can I talk to you?" he asked as they settled into the couch to watch a movie.

"Yes," she replied, apprehensively. In her experience, good rarely came from that question.

It seemed to take Tony a while to find the right words to phrase his question. "I… Earlier… Well, this morning…" he began, but frowned in frustration when he could not correctly word his inquiry. "Do they still hurt?" he asked, deciding to cut directly to the chase. Ziva frowned, knowing exactly what he meant. She should have expected this after what she asked him to do this morning, and what she knew that he saw.

"Sometimes," she replied honestly, "Many times they are red and irritated in the evening from my shirt rubbing against them all day."

"Do they hurt now?" he asked.

"No," Ziva replied, too quickly for Tony's liking.

"Come on, Ziva," he urged her quietly. She sighed.

"They hurt… some," she admitted.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked, hating the thought of her in pain. She looked away from him.

"There is… one thing," she revealed. His eyes brightened.

"Sure, what is it? I'll do it, whatever it is, if it makes you feel better," he volunteered.

"Maybe you should find out first what you are signing up for," she advised him.

"What is it?" he asked, sounding exasperated.

"The doctor… he gave me a tube of this ointment that I was supposed to apply every night. But… It got very difficult for me to apply it myself, and plus it… Stung," she explained, the last word being spoken so softly Tony wasn't sure that he heard it at all. She sounded almost ashamed.

"Ziva! You should have come to one of us! No wonder they still hurt you!"

"And what? Ask you to apply ointment on my scarred back?"

"Isn't that what you're doing now?" he inquired.

"You are living with me, it is different now. But I wasn't about to drive to your apartment and ask you to apply ointment to my back," she told him. He nodded.

"Point taken."

"So… you will do it?" she asked, not bothering to hide the hope in her eyes. Tony was glad that she was willing to let him take care of her.

"If you are sure you are okay with the stinging," he promised. She smiled softly.

"Follow me," she motioned, leading him into the bedroom. In any other circumstance, with any other woman, this could have been seen as a prelude to sex.

But this wasn't another situation, and this was Ziva. He had to accept that fact that sex with Ziva, especially now, would never happen.

She dug the tube of cream out from a drawer in her bathroom. She tossed it to Tony, who sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to him. She approached him and swiftly removed her shirt, not letting herself have any time to second-guess herself. He had seen all of this before, that first night back. He would see nothing new tonight.

Undressing in front of a man nearly was enough to bring the flashbacks back up. For a second, she stood there, hanging between her memories and reality, but Tony's voice pulled her back.

"You okay?" he asked. She nodded, remembering that this was just Tony.

That was all of the reassurance that she needed to pull her sports bra over her head, exposing bare torso to him, smiling when his expression did not change and his gaze did not stray from her face. She laid down on the bed, pillows under her chest and legs to keep too much weight from falling on her swollen abdomen. She felt him sweep her hair off of her back and too the side in a motion so soft and gentle it was almost a caress.

He couldn't help but flinch as he observed the damage inflicted on her exposed back. Wounds like these only could have been done using a bullwhip. The image of Ziva, chained to a wall while Saleem whipped her abused body threatened to overtake his brain. He swallowed, forcing the ugly picture from his brain.

Tony squirted a generous amount of the ointment from the tube and onto his hand (he couldn't help but notice that the tube was practically full). After a second of hesitation, he took some of the cream off of one hand and onto the other and gently rubbed it on her lower back. At first, Ziva jumped from the feel of the cold ointment. The gentle draft in the room added to the feeling of coolness. This feeling of coolness soon became stinging, however. She bit her teeth as her applied more ointment, and soon a sensation equal to that of Benadryl on a rug burn was felt all over her entire back. This stinging soon subsided and was replaced by a soothing warm feeling, and Ziva sighed in happiness. He continued to rub the medicine on her back until he felt that he had covered everything liberally. Ziva looked up at him, an expression of relief on her face.

"Thank you," she expressed wholeheartedly. Tony smiled and gently stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

"Anytime, Ninja," he promised.

"How long will it be before I can put my pajamas on?" she asked him. Tony took the tube and looked at the directions.

"Forty-five minutes," he told her.

"That is a long time," Ziva observed. Tony nodded.

"Why don't you just sleep? It's late anyway," he suggested, "I will cover you up with blankets in forty-five minutes." Too tired to fight it, Ziva nodded. With Tony's help, she managed to kick off the sweatpants that she had worn on their jog. She was surprisingly comfortable when, after he had gotten ready, he slid into bed next to her. She would have expected to have been uneasy when lying in bed, exposed in only her underpants, with a man wearing nothing but his boxers. After what she had been through, the idea of having a man in her bed at all should have been repulsing and terrifying.

But it was Tony, so it was okay.

A/N: Hope that you liked! Yes, I have been updating a lot recently:) But no one is complaining, right?

Thanks to Ncisfan with Tivafever, Tiva lovah, Zivaleh DaVid, Shy Chey, Kikilia, aquasm, Violet, ncisxpsych, and Robern for the reviews!

**Zivatjl12rcn– **I'm glad that you like it! Which reviews did you leave? I do not know if I have been getting them, what name did you leave?


	28. Reciprocation

_Ziva's face is so beautiful in the moonlight,_ Tony thought. He was, as always, staying up after she went to sleep, merely because watching her face in such peace far beat dreaming of the same face with a seemingly-permanent expression of pain encompassing it. He knew, of course, that he would regret his lack of sleep in the morning— he always did. Every day since he had come to live with her, he had promised himself as he was fighting falling asleep on his desk that he would go to bed sooner that night. Tonight, going to sleep was out of the question— what with all of the emotions running through his brain.

He had thought that he could handle seeing her scars up close and personal like that. He thought that he would be able to put aside his feelings of (God and Ziva forgive him) pity and sadness and downright _anger_. And he had been able to, for the most part, at least on the outside. When it really counted, he held his composure and did what she needed him to do.

But now that she was asleep, and it was just him and his thoughts, he was able to really feel the pain.

His encounter with the evidence of Ziva's pain that past summer had cut him on a deeply emotional level. And hearing her tell him that, not only did they still haunt her emotionally, but they also still caused her pain _physically?_

He felt sick to his stomach.

It was selfish, he knew that much. Here Ziva was, feeling so weak and vulnerable and hurting _so damn much_ and Tony can't even hold it together for her sake. He was supposed to be her rock! Isn't that why he was here? He was to play the guardian angel for the next three months and protect both Ziva and Ava. But it simply wasn't that simple. In the darkness of night, he felt a tear being shed. Just one, singular tear. One tear for all of her suffering and for all of his.

He quickly swatted it away. She needed him to be her anchor. She did _not_ need a sniveling mess.

He seemed to have developed a sixth sense. It was the _Ziva_ sense. He was completely attuned to her, and any one thing out of place… and he would pick up on it. So perhaps that was why, when Ziva's eyes snapped open, he knew. He looked over to her and pulled her into his arms, not minding the fact that her torso was completely bare.

He felt a swell of pride in noticing that she did not seem to mind, either.

"It's okay, Ziva. I'm here. They can't hurt you or Ava. You're okay–" he began to soothe her, but she interrupted.

"Tony. It was not a nightmare," she corrected. Tony frowned. He thought he would be able to differentiate between a nightmare and a _happy_ dream after all this time.

"I'm sorry," he told her, "I'm not sure if I know what I'm supposed to do in this situation…" he trailed off. She smiled.

"It has been far too long since I've had a good dream, yes?" she replied, trying to sound lighthearted but failed considerably.

Tony saw this and looked at her with a compassionate but sad expression. "Are you sure you are telling me the truth?" he asked.

"What, you think I would _lie?" _Ziva shot back, sounding borderline angry.

"No, of course not. But you look so sad," he told her. She shook her head.

"I'm sad because I woke up," she insisted. Tony's frown gradually turned neutral, and then ever-so-slightly turned upwards.

"Do you want to tell my about the dream?"

"Not particularly," she replied.

"Come on, Ziva. I mean, I understand not wanting to tell me about the nightmares, but the good dreams…?" he sighed.

"Ava was born, she was beautiful, end of story," she shrugged it off.

"Well, you know, only three more months before that dream becomes a reality," he assured her.

"I am excited for that day, but at the same time… A part of me dreads it," she confessed. Maybe it was the late hour, but it suddenly felt like their conversation had taken a very rare turn into Ziva's deepest, most private feelings.

"Why?" he questioned, unsure of what else to say.

"Because…" she trailed off, before frowning and clamping her mouth shut.

"What's wrong?"

"Never mind, Tony. Forget I said anything," she shook her head.

Tony scowled. "Come on. You can't leave me hanging like that!" he protested.

"I spoke before my brain had time to process what I was about to say. I should not have told you this. Forget I said anything."

"Easier said than done, you know," he replied.

"Maybe so, but not impossible."

"Maybe not impossible, but pretty damn close," he fired back.

"What I was going to say is not something that you are prepared to hear, Tony," she warned him.

"Does it look like I care?"

Ziva sighed. "It is too personal. Too close. Too painful."

"Ziva. Come on. We're lying in bed together. You are practically naked, and so am I. I don't see how it can get any more personal than_ that._"

"I am referring to the emotional level."

"You and I both know that this is _all_ emotional."

Ziva bit her lip. "Okay, I will tell you, only because I trust you and you might as well know everything. But do not say that I did not warn you."

Tony nodded his assent, "Of course."

"I am afraid that the pain of the birth will bring back… memories," she admitted.

Tony's eyes went as wide as saucers. What he was supposed to say after her telling him something like that, he had no clue. He tried a few times to say something, but nothing came out except a soft and pathetic, "Oh." Ziva looked away.

"See. I knew that I should not have told you this!"

Tony still did not respond, and to his shame, felt a second tear germinating in his eye. Despite his efforts to halt it, it tracked down his face, glistening in the moonlight. Ziva looked repentant and regretful.

"I am sorry, Tony," she apologized quietly, her eyes swimming in guilt. To his utmost chagrin, another tear found its way down his face. He swiped it away, but not before Ziva saw it.

"Are you sure hormones aren't contagious, Ziva? I'd love to be able to blame this on them," he tried to joke, but like Ziva's attempts, they fell flat.

"Do not be ashamed of your tears," she told him, taking his hand.

"Ziva, stop. Don't make this seem okay. I can't do this. I'm supposed to your steady rock. I'm supposed to be the strong one."

"Has is not occurred to you yet that maybe you have been strong for too long?" she asked, "You are the one who is always telling me that it is okay to shed tears. It is okay to show that you are in pain. It is okay to not be strong and to let someone else just hold you and take care of you. You always tell me these things, day in and day out. But you are not practicing what you teach," she pointed out.

"Preach," he corrected.

"That is beside the point. The point is that you have taken care of me and held me while I cried. Please, Tony, let me reciprocate. Do not think that I do not see what this does to you. Taking care of me is taking a toll on your physical and emotional wellbeing. Do you think I do not notice that you do not sleep that much? Or see that look in your eyes whenever I push food away? Or the look of guilt you get when you think that you were too late in rescuing me? Or the–"

"Stop. I get it," he interrupts.

"Tony, I know that this hurts you. It is selfish of me to expect so much from you. You will always be my anchor— a few tears will never change that. Hell, sob if you want to. If that is what you need, feel free. But you always told me that I am too strong too much and that, sometimes, I need to let it all out. Take your own advice for once and just _let me help you_. You have helped me so much. I still will need that help. But… Sometimes I think that this moving in together is not just for my sake. It is for both of ours'. We can take care of _each other_. That is how it should work, yes? We are partners, and partners have each other's backs. So just let me be the rock for a change," she expressed, her voice pleading for him to understand. He looked at her with a sad smile.

"This is my fault," he told her, simply. That was all he said, but it tore a hole in Ziva's heart.

"Tony…"

"All of it. Everything. It's my fault," he elaborated, the pain in his eyes so deep that she couldn't _believe_ how much he had been hiding from her. She knew that he had been hurting because she was, yes, but never in a million years had she expected the level of unprecedented agony expressed in his voice and glistening green orbs.

"No. No, no, no, do not think that. Do you think that _I_ think that?"

"I know that you don't blame me for the mess that you're in."

"But you blame yourself?" she questioned, already knowing the answer as she stared deep into his soul that he had finally bared for her. She was firmly grasping his hand.

"Yes," he affirmed, his voice merely a whisper. Ziva heard it just fine.

"You should not," she responded, her words heartfelt as she shook her head ever so slightly.

"Think about it. It makes perfect sense. _I_ was the one you were pissed it. It was because of _me_ that you stayed. I could have just gotten out of the plane, refused to leave without you, done anything to make you come home with us. But I didn't, and you got sent on some suicide mission because I didn't have the guts to just call you and beg you to return–"

"Calling me would not have made me return. I would have stayed. My mind was made up because of what my _father_ told me, not because of what you did."

"It doesn't matter. Just like nothing mattered then, because you were dead. And if only it hadn't taken me so damn long to go save you…" he trailed off, unable to finish.

"Why are we always stuck on _what if_s? They do not matter. We dwell too much on what could have been."

"I can't help thinking of what was without thinking of what could have been," he admitted.

"Why do we not just focus on what is?"

"Because I can't think about what is without thinking about what was. And then… well, it's basic mathematics. My mind always drifts back to what could have been."

"Well, then, you might as well know that, despite the obvious challenges, the way things are… they are perfect."

"Alright. Thank you for… this," he said, unable to come up with a label for what had just transpired— which was fine with him; since when had they ever been able to label their relationship?

"Go to sleep, Tony. Perhaps the nightmares will stay away for you, too," she expressed wistfully. He smiled and kissed her forehead.

"Goodnight, you two. Sweet dreams."

He had absolutely no issues falling asleep that night. A weight felt like it was gone from his chest. All of his cards were on the table. He had no secrets. His walls were down, and to be honest, he liked the feeling.

Despite his instinct to always be the strong one between them, he liked the idea of them taking care of each other. She was, after all, right. Partners protect each other from physical harm in the field, so why not do their best to harbor each other from the emotional villains as well in the safety of her— and temporarily _their—_ own home?

He rather liked how that sounded. He could get used to this.

A/N: Long chapter for all of you guys. The bed scenes are probably really old by now, but for some reason I just _love_ writing it. Next chapter will have some variation, but sadly, you all will have to wait until MAY. See, I am taking a little hiatus. The stress of keeping up with school and my social life and other things like that in my very very busy month of April is taking a toll. I cannot afford to have the distraction of writing at the moment. I'm sorry, and I will miss you all dearly. There may be random updates within the remainder of April (because sometimes I need something to alleviate stress). But probably not.

Thanks so much to Kikilia, Liraeyn, Vi, teeny, ncisxpsych, Zivarocks44, aquasm, Zivafan2481, Shy Chey, pirate-princess, Robern, Tiva lovah, and ziva-adaleh for reviewing! I would really appreciate a bunch of reviews this time, because I need something to cling to during my time off:) Love you all and until next time!


	29. Dancing

"I don't feel like going home, Ziva," Tony admitted as they pulled out of the parking lot. Ziva cocked her head to the side.

"What do you feel like doing, then?" she inquired.

"A bar?" he suggested. Ziva frowned.

"Tony… I cannot drink," she reminded him.

"Don't worry, ginger ale only. I just need to have a little bit of a change of scenery, you know? And don't worry, I know a place that is quiet and very… not club-ish," he promised. She smiled, realizing, that disregarding the supermarket, she really hadn't been anywhere besides the hospital, NCIS, and her apartment in the past few weeks. She really needed to get out more. She wasn't going to let this pregnancy turn her into a hermit.

"Okay. What are we going to do at this bar?" she asked curiously.

"Talk. People-watch. Drink non-alcoholic beverages… The usual."

"No women?" she asked, sounding a little bit insecure.

Tony laughed. "No women."

They arrived at the bar at 1900. It wasn't much of a place and it wasn't very crowded, especially since it was a Tuesday. They went up to the bar and ordered their drinks. Tony surprised Ziva by ordering soda for himself as well. She looked at him with a confused expression her face as the bartender went to go get them their drinks.

"What?"

"I did not think you meant that you were going to have a soda as well," she admitted.

"What, you thought I was going to sit here and drink a beer while you are in the non-alcoholic clutches of pregnancy? I don't think so," he replied, grabbing their drinks and going to sit at a high-top table.

"You are going to give up alcohol while I am pregnant?" she asked, thoroughly surprised.

"It's the least I can do," he admitted, shrugging it off. Ziva smiled. She would never admit it, but his words made her feel special.

They talked for a while, and Ziva wasn't sure how much time had passed before Tony got up to go to the bathroom. He had only been gone for a minute when a man who had walked in a few minutes earlier turned away from the bar and caught sight of her. He smiled and approached her.

"Hey," he greeted, "What are you doing sitting here alone? You want some company?" he asked. Ziva opened her mouth, but no words came out. Was this man hitting on her?

"Um, no… My, er, husband is in the bathroom," she replied, trying to get him to go away. What was he doing hitting on her? First of all, she wasn't exactly desirable. And second, she was pregnant! Well, maybe he couldn't see the baby bump from where he was standing on the other side of the table. That was probably the case. But still…

The man's eyes widened. "Oh. My apologies, Ma'am. You have a nice night now," he nodded, before turning and heading back over to the bar. Ziva relaxed once he was gone. He had seemed nice and polite– enough that his advances hadn't triggered any particularly unpleasant memories. No, that was not what was concerning her now. What concerned her was that a very, very good looking man had just come up to _her_ and asked if she wanted to have a drink with him. Was he really that desperate? A man like him should be able to get any woman that he wanted.

"Ziva," Tony snapped, pulling her from her reverie, "Hey, you okay?" he asked, sitting back in his seat.

"I am fine," she assured him.

"You look spooked… What happened?" he interrogated.

"I… I think that man over there was hitting on me…" she trailed off. Tony pushed down the feelings of jealousy at her words.

"I don't doubt that," he replied. Ziva's brows stitched together in confusion.

"What? What are you talking about?" she questioned.

"He probably _was_ hitting on you," he shrugged, taking a sip of his soda.

"Why would he be hitting on _me?_" she wondered.

"Because you're beautiful?" Tony suggested. Ziva shook her head.

"Quit trying to flatter me, Tony," she insisted.

"I'm not. You asked me why, so I'm answering. You look stunning, Ziva," he told her, dismissing it like it was something completely normal for him to say.

"Sometimes I do not understand men," she sighed.

"You don't see it, do you?" he sighed, already knowing the answer to the question that he posed.

"See what?"

"Your _beauty,_ Ziva. You don't think you're beautiful," he stated. Ziva didn't know what to say.

"After all that's happened? Maybe I was beautiful before, Tony, but not now."

"You're just as beautiful as you were a year ago, I promise," he assured her. Ziva snorted.

"Somehow, I doubt that."

"At least you must know that your physical appearance hasn't changed," he told her.

"Except for the fact that I'm_ pregnant._ And there are scars covering sixty percent of my body," she reminded him.

"You are still beautiful," he told her, "No matter what you think," he mumbled into his glass. Ziva somehow knew that that was the end of the conversation. She quickly changed the subject, but her mind still lingered on his words.

Beautiful. _Ha. If only._

…

An hour later, Tony and Ziva still sat in the same spots. The scene around them had changed quite a bit, however. They were the last ones left in the bar, and the music that was at a nice background level before amongst the noise of the other customers was not dominant due to the lack of conversation.

"Doo doo doo, doo doo…" Tony began to sing along to the familiar song softly. Ziva smiled.

"You like this song?

_Hey where did we go, _

_Days when the rains came?_

"Who _doesn't_ like this song?" Tony asked, taking her hand and leading her to an open area.

_Down in the hollow, _

_Playin' a new game, _

"Tony… I have not been very good at dancing as of late. I am very clumsy and your toes will probably suffer–" she began to protest.

_Laughing and a-running, hey, hey _

_Skipping and a-jumping _

Tony frowned and shushed her. "I don't care if you have two left feet, Ziva. I want to dance with you," he insisted.

_In the misty morning fog with _

_Our hearts a thumpin' and you _

"But my bump–" Ziva tried to object.

_My brown eyed girl, _

_You my brown eyed girl. _

"I. Don't. Care," he stressed, pausing after each word. Ziva sighed and complied.

_Whatever happened _

_To Tuesday and so slow _

_Going down the old mine _

_With a transistor radio _

"See? We've got this," he insisted as they moved back and forth.

_Standing in the sunlight laughing, _

_Hiding behind a rainbow's wall, _

_Slipping and sliding _

_All along the water fall, with you _

Ziva winced as she accidently took a wrong step and her foot landed on Tony's. He, however, pretended not to notice.

_My brown eyed girl, _

_You my brown eyed girl. _

_Do you remember…_

Tony let go of one of her hands and spun her around. She gasped, but landed right back into his arms.

_When we used to sing, _

"Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da," Tony sang, smiling joyfully at her.

_So hard to find my way, _

_Now that I'm all on my own. _

"Do you seriously not know this song?" Tony asked, sounding like it was an unbelievable thought.

_I saw you just the other day, _

_My how you have grown, _

"Sorry, I do not know it," she shrugged. Tony shook his head jokingly.

"Shame on you, Agent David. Everyone knows this song!"

_Cast my memory back there, Lord _

_Sometime I'm overcome thinking 'bout _

"Well, everyone except for me," she reminded him.

_Making love in the green grass _

_Behind the stadium with you _

"True, Miss 'I'm-studying-to-be-an-American-citizen. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, they really should forget all the Constitution and Amendment crap and focus on the culture," he told her, spinning her again. She smiled at him.

_My brown eyed girl _

_You my brown eyed girl _

"Well, now you know something new," he smirked. Ziva chuckled.

"Do you remember," Tony belted out, "when we used to sing sha la la la la la la la la la la te da." He motioned for her to sing as well, and she sighed and began to sing with him.

"Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da, la te da."

Ziva pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you," she told him.

"Anytime, my brown eyed girl."

A/N: I felt like this was sort of lame… I hope that it wasn't! And Tony is right: Anyone who doesn't know this song needs to rethink their life:P

So yeah, I'm back, right on time:) Thanks for your continual support! I didn't get all that many reviews, but I guess I deserve it for ditching you all:) Thanks to **Vi, Liraeyn, tiva lovah, Shy chey, kikilia, ncisxpsych,** and **Zivafan2481** for reviewing!


	30. Apologies

_One and a half months later, March 14__th__, 2010_

Ziva was pulled from sleep by incessant ringing of her phone. Now, less than a month from her due date, she was exhausted nearly all the time. The baby seemed to be siphoning her energy away. At first, Ziva resented it. It made her feel extremely weak and she _hated_ weakness. But after finding out that this was natural, she didn't seem to mind. What she hated was being stuck at home while Tony got to work. She reached over and grabbed the phone off of its cradle next to the lamp.

"Hello?" she answered groggily.

"Ziva?" the voice said. Ziva immediately shot up off of the couch, shocked.

"Why are you calling here? How did you get this number?" she questioned, anger evident in her tone.

"I have connections. I am calling because I just landed in DC," he replied. Ziva's eyes widened.

"What? You're here?" she asked, shocked.

"There are some things that I need to discuss with you, and many wrongs that I mean to right," he admitted.

"To _right?_" she cried, "Eli, you could live a thousands lives and not be able to make up to me what you have done!"

"Ziva, please, listen to me. I need to see you. _Bevakasha_."

"Not unless you tell me why you are here _right now._ You have not left Israeli soil since being appointed Director, so why are you here now?"

"I have resigned my position as Director."

"Abba… What is wrong?" she questioned. Despite all the evils that this man had inflicted upon her, what he was saying was concerning and she was still his daughter.

"I do not want to do this over the phone. Please. Meet with me."

"You know where I live, why not just drop by unannounced?" she questioned. _That_ was more his style.

"I thought that maybe you would rather I called first," he admitted.

"I… I do. But that is just so out of character for you–"

"Ziva, please, stop asking questions. I will answer your questions if you agree to meet with me, all of them," he promised.

"You know where I live. You will come regardless, so let us just get it over with," she sighed, hanging up.

…

The knock on her door came a half an hour later while she was sitting on the couch, pretending to read a book. Ziva briefly contemplated not answering it, but there was something in his voice on the phone, something that was not usually there… He needed to see her, that much was evident.

"It is open, Eli!" she called, not wanting to experience an awkward threshold conversation. She heard the door open and hesitant steps coming from behind her, approaching the couch tentatively. She looked up as he rounded the corner and came into view. She stood up to greet him, but the look on his face stopped her cold. His eyes bulged and his jaw dropped. He looked like he was trying to say something, but for all the languages he knew, not one word came to him.

His eyes were locked on her prominent midsection.

"Eli?" she asked, trying to pull him out of shock. She had assumed that he knew. He usually had men spying on her, and his knowledge of where she lived only served to prove that.

Someone must have neglected to mention one itsty, bitsy detail.

"When… How... _Who?_" he croaked out, finally managing to say _something._

"I will answer your questions after you answer mine," she compromised.

"Please, Ziva, I need to know! I am your father, please, tell me!" he practically begged. Ziva only felt somewhat badly for enjoying hearing her father grovel at her feet like this. "Is it that agent DiNozzo? I knew he was no good, Ziva! And now he has knocked you up–"

"Abba, please, it was not Tony. I wish it was Tony." She whispered the last part.

"_Who?_" he interrogated, his voice cracking.

"Fine? You really want to know that badly? It is_ because of you_ that I am pregnant! Because _you_ could not spare the resources to rescue me!"

"Oh, Ziva–"

"This is _Saleem's baby!_ I am carrying his child! You happy now? I have told you! He is the father, this is a rape baby," she growled at him. The look on his face was hurt, angry, and sad.

"Are you going to keep him?" Eli asked, once he recovered from his shock.

"Her. She is a girl. And yes, she may be his, but she is mine, too. She deserves to be with her mother, she has done nothing wrong," Ziva told him, gently cradling her swollen abdomen, feeling Ava's tiny feet assault the lining of her womb. The anger she had felt melted away as she talked about her precious daughter. Eli saw the love in her eyes and couldn't help but feel the same way. He reached forward and touched her bump gently. Something in his eyes made Ziva not pull away.

"Have you given her a name?" he questioned. Ziva laughed. "What is so funny?"

"Avalyn. Her name is Ava," she told him, smirking. Eli looked up at her, sadness filling his eyes. He knew that she remembered what he had told her as a child, how he had shattered her dreams.

"I am so sorry, Ziva," he apologized, "It really is a beautiful name." Ziva's eyes narrowed at his anomalistic behavior.

"I have answered your questions, now you must answer mine," she insisted, "Why are you acting so strangely?"

"In light of some recent events, I have realized all of the wrongs that I have committed in my life. Most of them, I cannot go back on now. Ari, Tali… they are gone. I cannot fix that. And I probably cannot fix our relationship either, Zivaleh, but I can try. I just want you to know that I am sorry. Power corrupts, Ziva, and it corrupted me. Looking back… I realize that I have left a trail of pain and death behind me. Most of that I cannot make right, but I want to at least let you know that I am sorry," he explained. Suddenly, it made sense. She began to notice things about his appearance that she had missed– there were bags under his eyes, his hair was thinning, and he had to have at least lost twenty pounds.

"You are dying," she stated, her voice and face seemingly impassive. But, on the inside, she was screaming.

Eli nodded. "Pancreatic Cancer."

"H… How long?" Ziva asked, her voice cracking.

Eli shrugged. "Two months, possibly more."

"I… I am sorry," she croaked, her throat dry. She proceeded to wrap her arms around him, something she had never imagined that she would do ever again. Eli embraced her back the best he could around her baby bump and guided them back to the couch. They sunk in to the couch, still holding one another.

"Do not apologize. That is what _I_ came to do," he reminded her. She smiled sadly, a tear tracking down her face. She was about to mentally curse the hormones, when she realized that she probably would be crying even if she _wasn't_ pregnant. Her father was dying.

"They cannot cure it?" she asked. Eli sighed.

"That part is my fault. I have always hated doctors and hospitals. It was too late by the time I finally decided something was wrong. Chemotherapy will do nothing except prolong my miserable life a week at the most. There is no point," he recounted sadly. Ziva didn't know what to say. How does one reply to something like that?

"I forgive you," she stated, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek voluntarily for the first time in God knows how many years.

His eyes sparkled with happiness, a smile stretching across his face. "I do not deserve you, Zivaleh. You are a far better person than I will ever be. I did not know what to expect when I arrived here, and I imagined a lot of scenarios, but forgiveness… Forgiveness was not in any of them. I do not deserve forgiveness," he confessed.

"You are right, Abba. You do not deserve forgiveness. But I know what it is like to not be worthy of something and receive it anyway. It is the story of my life in America. You will be gone soon, Eli, and I do not want you to leave this life with no one to care for you. Your apology means more to me than you can imagine," she told him.

"I will work hard, Ziva, to make up to you what I have done," he promised.

"Abba, there is no need. I already forgive you," she reminded him.

"Does not mean that I will try to die worthy of that forgiveness," he replied, kissing her forehead.

They talked for hours, about mindless things. They talked about what he had missed in her life, about her upcoming citizenship test, about all of the people who mattered in her life.

Despite all that he had done to her, she was glad to have him back.

A/N: I hope this wasn't terribly out of character. I was tired of writing evil Eli and thought, what the hell, why not make him see the error in his ways? Please review! We are getting very very close to babytime!

Thanks to **pirate-princess, aquasm, kikilia, Tiva lovah, Shy Chey, Vi, Liraeyn, ncisXpsych, ziva-adaleh, Zivatjl, Ncisfan with Tivafever, **and **cierra **for reviewing! We're going to hit 300 for the 30th chapter because of all you awesome people:)


	31. Fair

Tony eased the door shut, quietly placing his keys on the hook. Their case had been solved, but not without quite a bit of overtime. It was now nearly midnight and he hoped that she was asleep.

He tiptoed into the living room, past the couches, and was about to turn the knob and enter their bedroom when he heard a soft snore from the couch directly behind him. Startled, he whirled around. He could barely make out what he was seeing through the thick darkness, but from the looks of it, there was someone on the couch with his ninja.

He couldn't begin to imagine who it could be. He quickly flicked on a light, and took a step backwards. It took him a minute to reconcile what he was seeing. Did his eyes deceive him, or was that really _Eliahu David_ on the couch with Ziva? There were prominent bags under his eyes, his hair had thinned and turned even grayer than before, and his stomach was no longer round, but it was _definitely_ Ziva's father.

What in the _hell_ was that bastard doing here?

Awoken by the light, Ziva began to stir. Her eyes flickered and she groaned. Eli, however, did not move.

Upon spotting Tony and his shocked, confused look, she eased off of the couch, careful not to disturb her sleeping father. She motioned for him to follow her to the kitchen so they could talk about this interesting and unexpected turn of events.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Tony hissed, "I was under the impression that you two had not talked since he gave you the orders to go _die_. And now you are falling asleep in his arms? Jeez, Ziva, what did I miss?"

Ziva ran her hands through her hair, taking a deep breath. "Pancreatic cancer, that is what _we_ missed. He is dying Tony. He came to apologize; to make amends before he passes. I forgive him," she told him.

"That's it?"

"In a nutshell, yes," she replied, her eyes downcast. Tony frowned.

"This is not fair to you at all," he commented.

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

"Your father has been nothing but a manipulative bastard towards you his whole life. And now that he's finally worked up the nerve to apologize… He's dying. He is _finally_ in your life, but he is going to be ripped from you in a matter of months. It is not fair to you. It's just one heartbreak after the other," he shrugged.

Ziva nodded her agreement. "The thought has passed through my mind, yes," she agreed.

"For the record, you deserve better," he commented. Ziva leaned back on the countertop, turning her head away from Tony.

"It is what it is, Tony. I should cherish him while he is here," she responded. Tony could hear the thickness in her voice. Even though he could not see her eyes, he knew that there were tears building up in them. "Why now? Why could he not just stay away? I appreciate that he is trying to make amends, but I do no think my heart can take any more," she admitted. Tony reached out and lifted her chin, tousling her hair. He brought his hands down to hers and joined them.

"I wish I could make this better, Ziva," he told her, sincerity in his tone. Ziva just shook her head, letting a tear fall.

"There is nothing you can do," she responded, "His intentions are pure. And… as much as I hate to grow close only to, inevitably, lose him, I do not think he should have to die alone and unloved. I am his daughter. He has seen the error in his ways, and I forgive him for what he has done. It is not fair to me, but since when has my life been fair? I will get over it," she assured him, but the tears on her face betrayed her. Tony took a step forward and wrapped his arms around her, careful of her bulging belly.

"So I don't have _any_ excuse to give him a verbal lashing?" he asked, sounding disappointed.

Ziva laughed softly. "I am sorry to blow your bubble, but no," she answered.

"Burst, Ziva. Burst my bubble," he sighed. She laughed into his shoulder.

Ziva, tired as she always was, decided that she should get some sleep in a proper bed. Tony told her to go ahead to the room and he would be in in a minute to help her.

After she had left the room, Tony grabbed a glass of water and crept back into the living room and found an awake and perfectly alert Eli David.

"I know you heard all of that," Tony told him, handing him the glass. Eli accepted it gratefully and downed half of the liquid before replying.

"I did not realize what my returning would do to her," he admitted.

"I figured as much," Tony replied, not looking at the older man.

"You have changed," Eli noted, "Since Israell, I mean. You are more… serious."

"When the situation calls for it I am. The situation has called for seriousness a lot lately," Tony shrugged. Eli took a sip of water and turned towards the agent.

"They raped her. In Somalia, they raped Ziva," Eli stated. Tony nodded.

"Yup," he replied, trying to sound neutral.

"I sent her there."

"Yup."

"And they raped her."

Tony suddenly became somewhat angry. "What, did you ever doubt they would? She was the only woman in a camp full of sadistic terrorists. What did you _think_ would happen?" he growled, "And I am sure that you are familiar with all of the methods of torture they most likely used on her, too. I am certain that, if you name it, they did it… and then some. Three months is a long time."

"I looked for her, I did."

"Well you didn't look hard enough!" Tony hissed.

"I know. I did not have that luxury—"

"She is your _daughter!" _Tony growled.

"I know. But she was also an officer, and I could not show partiality. I know that I messed up, you do not have to tell me that. No matter what she says, I know that I cannot be forgiven for abandoning her. I can only try to make up for _some_ fraction of all that I have done wrong by her."

"Hadn't it occurred to you that maybe you've played with her heart enough?" Tony cried, throwing his hands up in the air.

"I know, Agent DiNozzo. But I need to right my wrongs. I am sorry that I did not consider the effect that it would have on her heart."

"Just promise me that you will not betray her, okay? Not again. She can't take that. If you are going to be in her life, be there _the whole way._ Do not disappoint her," Tony ordered firmly.

"You do not have to worry, DiNozzo. I will not," he promised.

A/N: I hope that you liked it! Next chapter will be most definitely very Tiva:) Please PM me with any requests that you have!

Thanks to **Zoyarose, Ncisfan with Tivafever, Angelhaggis, Tiva Lovah, Summer95, Shy Chey, pirate-princess, Zivafan2481, Vi, Kikilia, MTGZ, Zivatjl, ncisxpsych, **and **Liraeyn **for the awesome reviews! And thanks to everybody for helping reach 300!


	32. Stay

…

When Tony came back into the bedroom after starting the bath, Ziva was waiting for him.

"Having talks with my father, are we?" Ziva asked as Tony shut the door to their room.

"Just making sure the man knows the consequences of hurting you again," Tony shrugged.

"You are overprotective," she sulked. He just laughed.

"Simply looking out for you," he promised. "It's my job to have your six, remember?" he reminded her, reaching out to grab the hem of her shirt. In one swift move, he pulled it over her bump and off of her head.

"I told him he could sleep on our couch tonight, until he can find an apartment to rent," Ziva told Tony as he slipped her pants off. As she reached the end of her pregnancy, doing even the simplest of tasks became a challenge. Having Tony help her dress seemed like the natural, logical thing to do. After all, he was here to help her. He had already seen her body in all of its, she thought, horrid appearance. It only made sense.

They walked over to the bathroom and Tony politely averted his eyes as Ziva sunk into the warm bathwater. After her hair had been wet, he squirted a liberal amount of shampoo into his palm and massaged it into her scalp.

"Are you glad that he came back?" Tony wondered.

Ziva pondered the question for a minute. "I do not know yet," she replied, "I guess we will see. But I cannot help but find it… nice… that he will be here when I have my baby. It is the way it should be. I worry that I will get too close to him, though, only to have him ripped away. But… c'est la vie, n'est pas?" Ziva's hands returned to their position at her bulging stomach.

"Only yours, Ziva," he solemnly reminded her, "Most people don't have to, _shouldn't have to_, go through this hell."

"Are you in some way alluding that I deserved it?" she replied, trying to hide the panic that flared up within her. One of the reasons that she had been able to convince herself that she didn't deserve the pain brought upon her was through the word of the ones who loved her. But had Tony been lying to her? Did he truly think that she had merited the agony her body and soul had undergone in her lifetime?

If he believed that, then everything she knew was a lie.

"No!" Tony cried indignantly, "Never! That's not what I meant. I just meant that you, for some reason, are very unlucky. You were born into a pretty horrible family and expected to uphold a pretty bad legacy, which basically was the root of all of your future problems. Most people would never have to go through this. You, for some reason, have. What I said came out wrong. You shouldn't have to go through this either. No one should," he amended, still gently massaging her head. Slowly but surely, he saw and felt her breathing go down.

"I am sorry. I overreacted. Hormones," she excused.

"It's fine, Ziva. But just know that I always think that you deserve the best that life could possibly give you. You deserve none of this; don't ever think that I believe you do. The last thing I want is for you to… Relapse," he promised, picking up the removable showerhead and turning it on so as to rinse the suds from her head. She relaxed.

After rinsing, repeating, and conditioning Ziva's hair, Tony opened the drain and let the soapy water swirl down it. He again averted his gaze while Ziva stood up to get in the shower to rinse the remaining suds from her body. He brushed his teeth and shaved his face while she was rinsing off. When she was through, Tony held up a towel for her to step into. He wrapped it around her body and dried her hair before telling Ziva to look away while he stripped so he could also take a shower. While he did so, Ziva brushed her teeth and washed her face.

Tony finished in no time. He emerged in a towel, shaking his head back and forth like a dog to dry his hair. Ziva shrieked.

"Tony!"

He just laughed and went out into the room to put on his boxers. Once he was decent, Ziva emerged from the bathroom.

"You are such a child," she admonished, shaking her head. He just grinned wildly and approached her.

"It's part of my charm," he insisted. She just rolled her eyes, turning his back to him and dropping the towel so he could pull up her underwear.

"Sure," she chuckled.

"Okay, Miss Dah-_veed_, what's so funny?" he questioned, sliding her pajama bottoms on.

"Oh, nothing," she replied, waving it off. Tony reached for the brush and began to run the bristles through her wet hair, pulling it into a ponytail.

"No, tell me," he insisted as she sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her ponytail in front of her shoulders. Tony reached for the ointment.

"Well, I find that the main part of your charm is your… paradoxity," Ziva began to explain, "I do not think that is a word," she added, frowning.

He sat down behind Ziva on the bed. "You're probably right, but I get what you mean," he replied, his following nod an encouragement to continue.

"Anyway, my point is that you are a contradiction. Like just now, you were acting somewhat immature, but at the same time you were showing the most maturity I have seen in a man by helping me," she described. Tony squeezed some of the lotion into his palm and began applying it to her scar-laden back. The scars had begun to fade from the month of using the prescribed medicine, and Ziva was extremely grateful. She was beginning to barely feel them anymore.

"It eases… tension," he shrugged, "Being serious all the time is no fun. And in situations like these? They need to be lightened up a little. I doubt that you _like_ me washing your hair and helping you dress."

Ziva frowned. "I _do_ enjoy it," she admitted, almost ashamedly, "Is that a bad thing?"

"No, of course not," he assured her, gently spreading the lotion around her back. 

"I do like it, Tony, but you are right. Goofing off is something that comes naturally to you when you are in a serious setting."

"If it bugs you I can stop," he assured her.

Ziva smiled softly at his willingness to change for her sake. "No. Do not change yourself for anyone, least of all me," she insisted. "You are fine just the way you are."

Tony did not reply. He simply motioned for her to scoot back with him towards the headboard. She laid on her side next to him, careful to keep her back from touching the sheets. They had to maneuver around her baby bump, but it was something that they were used to doing. They had been through this routine for so many nights that her naked chest pressed up against his side was no longer an issue, nor was difficult for Ziva to do. On the nights when Tony had to spend the night at NCIS— which gratefully had been very few— she usually just forwent the shower and slept in her clothes. It felt… strange without him. Again, her mind wandered to the very near future, in which Tony would be back in his apartment and she would have to face all of _this_, plus a screaming baby,alone.

After a moment or two of silence, Tony spoke. "Thank you for letting me take care of you."

Ziva smiled and, after a moment of indecision, gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. "No, it is I who am grateful," she replied.

"Whoa. Déja-vu," he commented. Ziva just laughed and tucked her head into his chest.

"Seriously, though, Tony. I do not say enough how grateful I am for… everything."

"You don't have to, Ziva. I am glad to do it," he assured her.

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"After the baby is born…" she began, but chickened out, "Nevermind."

"No, Ziva, no _nevermind._ Tell me," he insisted, twirling the end of her ponytail.

She sighed. "I am worried," Ziva admitted, "About after she is born."

Tony involuntarily placed his hand on her bump. "What about? You will be a great mother," he assured her.

"No, it is not that…"

"Then what?"

"You have been living with me for the past two and a half months, Tony, and… I am afraid of facing this alone," she replied, her voice nothing more than a barely audible whisper.

"You won't need to face it alone, Ziva. You have me and Gibbs and Timmy and Abby and—" he began, but was cut off.

"No," she interrupted, "That is not what I mean, either."

"Then _what?"_

"Over the two and a half months that you have been here with me, I have become… dependent. And I hate that feeling, I hate it, but I do not… do not want… to be alone here. I dread the day when you will pack up your things and go home. I have become so used to going to sleep with you every night and waking up with you that I fear I may suffer from some sort of withdrawal. Tony… Please do not leave," she told him, pouring out her deepest feelings that had been germinating in her heart since she first realized that she _liked_ having him here. Tears glistened in her eyes; something that she assumed was hormone-related.

To her surprise, Tony smiled. "Ziva, why didn't you just come out and say that? You could have just asked me to stay. I love staying here with you just as much as you apparently love having me. I'll be here as long as you— and Avalyn— need me. Okay? I'm not going anywhere," he assured her. Ziva was at a loss for words

"Are you sure—"

"Positive. As long as you want me here, there's no where else I would rather go," he promised. Ziva grinned widely and wiped away furiously at her tears.

"You are more than I deserve," she told him, burying her face in his shirt.

Tony just shook his head and sighed sadly. "Ziva, haven't we been over this? There is nothing good in the world that you don't deserve."

A/N: Sorry this took so long. I was concerned with finishing Innocence Corrupted. Now that I have, I can continue Closure.

Yes, I love the bed scenes. I am sorry. I'm a sucker for them. Baby will be coming very soon, I just want to make sure that there's nothing I need to cover before hand. Sorry there hasn't been much of the team, I really haven't felt like writing that. But I guess I will have to write something like that, huh? Alright. I am open to suggestions!

Thank you to **Tiva Lovah, Kikilia, pirate-princess, runner229, Vi, Shy Chey, blukitty, Robern, MTGZ, Summer95, mishka, ncisxpsych, Zivafan2481, **and **prince-bishop** for the wonderful reviews!


	33. Company

"Abby! What... what are you doing here?"

The woman at Ziva's threshold shrugged. "There aren't any cases, and I thought I would come and check up on you," she explained.

"How did you get Gibbs to let you go?" Ziva asked, welcoming the scientist into her home. Abby took off her shoes.

"Well, Tony and I sort of double teamed him. Plus, Gibbs is worried about you being alone just as much as we are," Abby admitted.

"I should have known this was Tony's idea. He can be so overprotective," Ziva sighed.

Abby frowned. "You don't want me here?"

"No! No, that is not what I meant," Ziva assured her, placing a hand upon her shoulder. "Tony simply worries too much. He hates not being next to me to protect me if something happens. He so afraid that he will not be able to have my back... _our_ backs," she amended, patting her bulging stomach.

Abby smirked. "I think Gibbs has been right all along."

"Right about what?" Ziva asked as Abby helped her ease down onto the couch.

"You two _did _get married and forget to tell us," Abby teased. Ziva just rolled her eyes.

"What is it with you guys and _insisting_ that Tony and I are more than just partners?"

Abby chuckled. "Girl, you've got it bad."

"What do you mean?"

"The denial, of course!"

"I am not in denial!" Ziva protested.

"Whatever. But on your wedding day— which you _will not _keep secret from us— I will be able to look you straight in the eyes and say 'I told you so.'" Abby smiled triumphantly.

"Whatever you say, Abby," Ziva huffed.

After a moment of pensive silence, Abby stood up. "Come on," she said, holding her hand out for Ziva to take.

Ziva frowned. "What are we doing?"

"You need to get out of this house, Ziva. I'm taking you shopping," Abby shrugged.

"No offense, but I really do not need anything! We already have gone out and bought everything we could possibly need last weekend!" Ziva objected.

"Not for baby things, silly! We're going _food_ shopping," Abby replied.

"Food?"

"More specifically, craving. Now, Ziva, tell me, what are you craving?"

…

"Jimmy, hello," Ziva greeted as she opened her door. "What brings you here?"

"Well, considering we have no bodies, I was hoping I could come over and tune your piano. I have no clue when it was last tuned, so I think it's time for a little check-up," he explained, holding up his box full of tuning instruments. "Um... May I come in?"

"Sure," Ziva agreed, holding the door open for him. Inwardly, she was shaking her head at Tony. This was obviously his idea— yesterday Abby, now today Jimmy? It was painfully obvious what he was doing.

It took about an hour for Jimmy to finish with her piano, which she had bought for herself when she bought the apartment. She had gotten good use from it; it was a nice and relaxing activity to pass the time with, now that she barely ever got out of the house.

He was about to leave when Ziva stopped him.

"You play, right?" she asked.

"Of course," Jimmy nodded. Ziva smiled and held up a duet.

"Unless you have somewhere to be, would you like to try this?" she suggested. A broad smile spread across his face.

"It would be my pleasure."

…

"Good morning, my dear."

"Good morning, Ducky," she replied, holding the door open for him to enter, "What brings you here?" she asked, playing along.

"There are still no bodies, which, of course, is a good thing, but I grow dreadfully bored sitting alone in the morgue, filling out paperwork. I was in need of some company. Do you mind? I will not bother you, I just would rather be in the presence of another _living_ human being as I do my work." he explained.

Ziva simply smiled and gestured to the breakfast bar that enclosed their kitchen. "I do not mind at all," she agreed, "If you would like, you can work there. I was simply making some hummus. I hope the food processor will not bother you."

"Ziva, I am glad that you are not working yourself too hard. Please tell me you do not work all day, though," he asked, setting his papers down on the island and hopping onto the waist-height chair.

"I do not, Doctor, don't worry. I rest when I feel tired, which is a lot of the time, but I enjoy my brief spurts of energy. Plus, there is nothing better than homemade hummus," she commented. Ducky nodded his agreement.

"I will have to impose and try some of your hummus once you have finished."

"I would be glad to share," Ziva replied. "So how come you decided to come here?" she questioned.

"Well, I was at first going to go to Abby's lab, but that music she listens to... I could barely hear myself think. And the team is in the field working on an embezzling case. Mr. Palmer is spending the day with his dear Breena, I'm afraid. So, I figured, why not come to see you?"

Ziva just smiled. "Tony put you up to this, did he not?" she asked, turning on the food processor and grinding the chickpeas.

"My dear, what ever would give you an idea like that? Why, I am simply a lonely old man in need of some lively company," Ducky protested, but Ziva didn't miss the wink he shot her.

…

Ziva didn't mention the visits to Tony. She knew he was just trying to look out for her, and truth be told, she didn't mind the extra company. She got awfully lonely when it was just her and the baby. It was the next day's visitor, however, that made her eyebrows raise.

"Wow. Tony _really_ must be out of ideas," she commented, as she opened the door to let her father in.

"What do you mean?" Eli asked, leaning forward to place a kiss upon her cheek.

"Tony put you up to this, did he not?"

Eli frowned. "No, I am here absolutely by my own admission," he objected.

Ziva rolled her eyes. "You are lying," she observed.

"Ah, so your training is not _that_ far gone, I suppose. Yes, he did call me this morning and ask if I could come visit you. But I was already planning on coming," he replied, "I did not tell Agent DiNozzo that, though. He thinks it was his idea to begin with."

"Eli, you do not need to call him Agent DiNozzo. Tony is fine," she assured him.

Talking to her father was surprisingly easy. As long as no difficult topics were breached, they had no issues connecting. Hours passed, and over that time, he helped her clean up around the house. The entire house was immaculate by the time noon rolled around. By then, Ziva was utterly exhausted. Eli guided her to her bedroom and laid her gently down on the bed.

To her surprise, Eli did not rise from the bed. Instead, he helped her roll over on to her side. Gently, he began to massage her aching back.

"Ari used to do that every night," Ziva mumbled, enjoying the wonderful feeling and relief it gave to her aching muscles.

Eli didn't reply. He simply continued to alleviate the stress that was put on her muscles. Ziva smiled sleepily.

Five minutes later, she was almost asleep. To her chagrin, however, she was awoken by a weird gushing feeling from between her legs. She groaned.

"What's going on?" she asked. Eli looked confused.

"Nothing, everything is normal... Are you okay?" he questioned, sounding worried. Ziva frowned and mustered up the strength to sit up and look down at her legs. Upon seeing the navy streak making its way down her blue sweatpants, Ziva groaned, her suspicions confirmed.

"Come on, tateleh, please not now! Ima is tired, precious," she complained.

"Zivaleh, please, tell me what is wrong!" he demanded, worry clouding his voice.

She looked up at him, fear in her eyes. "My water broke... Abba, I... I am going into labor."

A/N: I hope you liked it:) I tried to integrate the team into it. I also tried my best to keep it from being cliché. Please tell me what you thought!

Thank you to **Kikilia, Vi, aquasm, pirate-princess1, Liraeyn, Shy Chey, tiva lovah, ncisxpsych, Zivatjl12, Zivafan2481,** and **ZivaMarie19 **for the reviews!


	34. Fear

_"My water broke... Abba, I... I am going into labor."_

Eli's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

"I think so," Ziva replied, "But... I am not sure. I have never done this before, I do not know what to expect—" Her worried rant was cut off by Eli squeezing her hand gently.

"Zivaleh, there is no need to fret. Rivka was pregnant twice. I was not there for Tali's birth, and that is something that I will be forever sorry for, but I was there when she had you. You may not know what to expect, but I have done this before and I promise you that this is all completely normal, okay?" he soothed her. "But we do need to get you to the hospital," he added, "Even if you are not feeling contractions yet. You should go anyway, because they could start at anytime from now until tomorrow."

Ziva appreciated his efforts to curb her anxiety. There was panic within her that had been accumulating ever since she hit her third trimester. She didn't know how to do this. She had only ever taken life, not created it! This was a completely foreign concept to her, and lately the unknown had made her nervous.

She took a deep breath and allowed Eli to help her slide out of bed. She was grateful that she was already dressed— having Eli help her was a less-than-desireable thought.

"Should I bring anything? I do not know what I am supposed to bring..." she trailed off, looking at Eli with a million questions and uncertainties in her eyes. He couldn't imagine how she was feeling. She looked so scared, like she did when Rivka dropped her off at school for the first time. The fear of something new, something different... Something for which she was convinced she was unprepared. Eli hadn't missed the way he had referred to him as 'Abba.' It had been far too long since she had called him that.

"I would bring your laptop, a change of clothes, and anything that you would use to keep you entertained," he suggested. Ziva nodded, grateful to have someone here telling her what she needed to do. If she had gone into labor alone... She didn't know what she would have done. After Eli helped her throw a couple books, her laptop, and an outfit into a bag, she slipped on her shoes and headed out the door.

"I feel like I am forgetting something," she told him on their descent in the elevator.

"If you are, I'm sure that Agen— Tony or someone else could stop by and get it for you," he assured her. A lightbulb went off over Ziva's head.

"Tony! That's what I am forgetting!" she cried, digging her cell phone out of her pocket and pressing speed dial one.

"_Hey, Ziva. Everything okay?" _he questioned when he answered the phone.

"I am in labor," she stated simply. There was momentary silence from the other end.

"_Ziva, that's great! Ava's finally coming! Was Eli there?_" Tony asked.

"Yes. Thank you for that, by the way," Ziva added. Tony chuckled.

"_I was worried that you would be pissed,_" he admitted, "_But now is not the time to talk about this. How are you doing?"_ he questioned.

"I am fine," she replied, successfully masking the fear in her voice; or, at least, she _thought_ she had.

"_You do not have to be afraid, Ziva," _he told her, "_There is nothing that you need to be afraid of._"

"I... I am worried that I will mess this up," she admitted.

"_That is the last thing that you need to worry about. You aren't going to mess this up. Everything is going to go fine and soon you will be able to formally meet your daughter. Okay?" _he assured her. Ziva nodded, even though she knew he couldn't see it.

"Okay," she replied.

"_I'll meet you at Bethesda. See you soon."_

…

She lay in her bed in the hospital, incomplete and incomprehensible thoughts flitting through her head. She tried not to dwell too much on what was about to happen— what was _happening._ For the first time in months, Ziva allowed herself to think about what her daughter might look like. How much of _him_ would be present in his daughter? She had previously encountered children who looked exactly like one of their parents and _nothing_ like the other. What if Ava looked nothing like her mother, but was the spitting image of her father? What would she do then?

Ziva knew the answer to that question, it was obvious. She would love her daughter. She _had_ to. But loving an ultrasound image, a bump, and the little feet that kicked her from the inside was completely different from loving her baby once she was born, was it not?

She looked up upon hearing a gentle knock on the door to her room. She smiled when she saw Tony's head peek through.

"Can I come in? I come bearing gifts," he told her, holding out a chocolate bar. She chuckled.

"Of course. But you will have to be quiet," she told him, gesturing towards her father who was asleep on the chair in the corner of the room.

"Okay," he agreed, handing her the chocolate. "Don't tell the nurses. They wouldn't be happy with me," he reminded her as he pulled up a chair at her bedside.

"Why? Wouldn't want to ruin your chances with the hot ones?" she joked. Tony frowned and didn't reply. He had thought he'd outgrown his playboy reputation in the past year. "Tony, I am sorry, I know that you are no longer like that," she apologized.

Tony nodded, "I know," he replied, "Don't worry about it. So, how is this whole labor thing working out for you?"

Ziva frowned. "It is a lot less... exciting than I expected," she admitted. "I hate just sitting here, anticipating..."

"You are afraid, I can see it," he observed.

"Of course I am afraid! I have never done this before and I am so worried that something is going to go wrong," she replied. "How do I even do this?"

Before Tony could reply, Gibbs stepped in the room.

"Hey, Boss," Tony greeted him, "We were just—"

"DiNozzo, go get yourself some dinner. I got this one," he commanded.

Tony nodded and relinquished he cheap plastic chair to the older man. "I'll be back," he promised, casting one last glance at her before walking out of the door.

"Gibbs, I—" Ziva began, but Gibbs cut her off.

"Hey. I just need you to listen," he told her, holding his hand up to stop the flow of words. Ziva obediently shut her mouth and relaxed against the pillows behind her. "When Shannon went into labor with Kelly, she was terrified. Kelly was her first child and she had no clue what to expect. She had read all of the books in existence, but still she was scared. It's normal to be afraid right now, Ziver. But you just gotta remember that we are all here to support you," he assured her, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"I appreciate that, really I do. And I know that you all have my back... But it does not make this any less scary," she told him.

"I know. And a large majority of women understand how you are feeling right now. It is natural to be afraid—"

"But they are not just afraid, Gibbs! They are excited as well. And plus... their fear is not entirely mine. I fear... other things that most women do not need to."

"The pain," Gibbs stated. Ziva nodded. "I am sure that the other women fear that as well," he insisted.

"But not in the way that I do. I fear the pain because of the memories that come with it," she confided in him softly. "And I am not as excited about this as I should be."

"Don't worry, Ziver. Everything is going to be okay. Tony and I will be here the whole time, if you let us. We won't let you go back there, okay? Today isn't about death and pain. Today's about joy and life. Your daughter's coming into the world to meet you. That's them most important thing," he promised.

"I believe you," she responded. Gibbs smiled and leaned back in the chair.

"Good."

A/N: pretty boring chapter, I know. I apologize. Ava will be born in the next chapter. I will warn you, I have never been pregnant or had a baby, so if I get anything medically wrong it is due to that.

Thank you to **NazChick, Tiva lovah, Zivatjl12, Kikilia, Vi, Liraeyn, NCIS Ziva DiNozzo, Robern, Pirate-princess1, **and **Zivafan2481** for the great reviews! I will be sure to update soon!


	35. Welcome

"Ziva? Ziva, are you okay?" Eli asked, frowning at the pained look on her face. It was nearly a minute before she replied.

"The contractions... I think they are getting closer together," Ziva admitted after the pain had passed. She omitted the part about their growing intensity and pain, because despite the fact that her father had obviously changed, her instinct was still to remain strong for him. Old habits were hard to break, and showing weakness in front of her father was definitely something that she _not_ a habit of hers.

"Should I get a doctor?" he questioned.

Ziva shook her head. "No, but can you get Tony? I think I would like to talk to him."

Eli nodded and left the room. It was only a few minutes later when Tony came back and sat in the chair next to her bed.

"How are you doing?" he asked, taking her hand. She ignored his question.

"Tony, I have a favor to ask you," she began, playing with her hands nervously.

"Anything," he replied.

"Will you stay? While the baby is being born, I mean. Most women... They have their husband or the father of their child here to keep them company and coach them through... through the pain. But I do not have that luxury, and I do not want to go through this alone," she proposed. "I trust you, and you have spent the last three months taking care of me. You have... seen it all... So if you do not mind...?" She had planned what she was going to say carefully beforehand, but it still ended up coming out staggered and unsure.

Luckily for her, Tony didn't seem to care. "Of course," he agreed, "I would be honored."

"Thank y—" she began, but a sharp gasp interrupted the sentiment.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sounding frantic.

Through the pain and her heavy breathing, Ziva managed to reply. "Just a contraction," she hissed. Tony frowned, hating what he saw when he looked into her glassy eyes.

"Ziva, look at me, it's going to be okay," he assured her, taking her hand. The haunted expression on her face disappeared a half-minute later.

"Every time a contraction hits, I struggle harder and harder to not..." she trailed off, unwilling to finish the thought.

"To not...?" Tony prompted.

"I am not even in the second stage of labor, Tony, and yet the flashbacks are already becoming extremely difficult to manage! The pain will get worse, I know that... And the scary part is that it is already so terrible... it is much worse than the pain of rape, Tony, and I am so afraid that this is going to trigger something terrible at the worst time!" she ranted, her hands still fidgeting anxiously.

"Look at me," he ordered. When she complied, he continued, "Today is a happy day. Today is the day that your daughter comes into the world— the day that_ you bring her_ into the world. It's not about _rape._ It's not about what they did to you. You and Ava are both going to be fine. I don't know what I can say to help you through the pain. I've never experienced anything like it, and I never will. God, I cant even imagine.." he trailed off, running his hands through his unkempt hair.

"Then do not try," she told him, "Please, do not try to imagine the pain. I do not want you in that hell—" She was cut off when another contraction hit, this one at least two times worse than the last. She fought the urge to verbally express her pain, and she fought it hard. She would not give in to the pain. They liked it whens she screamed, when she cried out in pain... They loved to hear evidence of the agony they were putting her through. She would not let them hear her pain. They were dead, and somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that, but even then she refused to give them that last pleasure. Today was the last time they would ever inflict pain on her body, however indirectly. This labor pain was the last time her body would ever feel the urge to cry out because of something they had done. This was the last time, and she'd be damned if she grant them one last victory.

"Ziva, come on, look at me," he urged her, trying to coax her back into reality, "It's okay. You're okay."

The door opened and in entered the doctor who had previously introduced herself as Dr. Brooks. "Hello, Ziva, I came to check on... I'm sorry, have I interrupted something?" she asked upon seeing sad look on Tony's face.

"I think she's in the middle of a contraction... She is not handling it well," Tony admitted, speaking the last part in a hushed tone.

"That is common, some women have lower pain thresholds which is perfectly—" the doctor began, but Tony cut her off.

"Can I talk to you?" he inquired, shooting her a meaningful look.

"Sure," she agreed, but remained rooted to the spot.

"In private," he clarified.

The doctor nodded in understanding. "Why don't we go out in the hallway," she suggested.

"Ziva, can you hear me? Are you okay?" he asked. She nodded, coming back from her headspace as the pain faded. "Okay, I'm going to step out for a second—"

"Do not leave!" she interrupted, not even caring about how dependent she came across as. The urgency in her voice made Tony's heart break. He knew that, on some level, she was still in Somalia right now. He hated to leave her, but he needed to talk to the doctor.

"I'll just be in the hallway, right outside the door. Just holler if you need anything. I promise that I will not be long," he assured her. Ziva nodded her head, not trusting her voice.

Tony and Dr. Brooks stepped outside of the room. It was not until the door was shut that Tony took a deep breath and began.

"You said a few minutes ago that it is common for women to have lower pain thresholds. Doctor, Ziva's pain threshold..." he trailed off, giving a little humorless chuckle, "is the highest I have ever seen."

"I do not understand," the doctor admitted.

"It is not the physical pain that makes this hard. It is the memories that she is afraid of, not the pain. Memories that are associated with the kind of pain she's experiencing right now," Tony explained.

"Agent DiNozzo, are you referring to rape?" Dr. Brooks asked.

Tony inhaled deeply. "She would kill me if she found out that I told you. She doesn't need to know that you know, but I just wanted you to be informed of this. She was held captive and was released eight months ago. Tortured, starved, beaten, raped... and impregnated. Each time she feels a contraction, she goes somewhere far away, and I am fairly certain she is reliving it. I just wanted to warn you, let you know why she reacts the way she does. As much as we all want it to be, I don't think this will be smooth sailing for her," he explained. The doctor gave him a nod of understanding.

"Well, I can give her an epidural for the pain," she suggested, "Maybe it will make this a little bit easier."

Tony sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "We can try suggesting it to her. But she values her pride, and while her taking drugs will definitely not make any one of us disappointed with her, she will be disappointed with herself. We can try it, though. It wouldn't hurt."

They reentered the room and Tony went straight to Ziva's bedside.

"I have a proposition for you," he began.

"What is it? I hope you are not backing out—"

"Of course not! No, I just talked to Dr. Brooks. She... _we_ think that it would be wise of you to consider taking an epidural to help with the pain," he suggested.

Ziva immediately shook her head. "No," she refused, immediately shooting down the idea, "I will not take drugs. I am fine. No drugs."

"Ziva, you are having flashbacks left and right—"

"I will be fine. Just no drugs. I can do this on my own," she insisted, fire in her eyes.

Tony sighed. "Alright. You can always change your mind, though," he assured her, shooting Dr. Brooks a meaningful glance.

"Please, stop being such a worry-blister. I will be fine," Ziva argued.

"Wart. It's worry wart," Tony chuckled.

"I am in labor, cut me some slack," she retorted.

"Alright, Ziva, I'm going to place your legs in the stirrups here," Dr. Brooks began, "I need to see how dilated you are. Since the contractions are getting closer together, it shouldn't be long now."

It took Ziva much strength to stay in the present. The feeling of exposure was strong and she despised it greatly. Luckily, she made it through without any major flashbacks. Tony's coaching and assurances kept her in the present.

"Alright, Ziva, you're nearing eight centimeters, which means you are about to begin the third stage of labor, which is transition. If all goes well, and I do not foresee any major complications, you will be holding your baby within the next few hours," the doctor assured her. Ziva nodded, but did not reply because at that moment, another contraction hit her. There had barely been any break between this contraction and the last one. She gripped Tony's hand and squeezed it as she fought to stay in the present.

Tony coached her through it, and after what seemed like forever, the pain faded. "Hey, Ziva, just relax, okay?" he urged. The pain was gone, he could tell, but the glassy-eyed look had not faded. "Come back, it's okay," he urged, "Ziva, you're really worrying me here. In all the movies I've ever watched the woman almost always is screaming and cussing and yelling right now. But you haven't screamed once. You know, it's okay to vocalize your pain. I'm not going to think any less of you. It's okay, you can yell at me, cuss me out, and scream all you want," he assured her.

Ziva could barely hear his words. It was getting harder and harder to come back to reality in between contractions, especially now that they were less than a minute apart. All she heard was _them,_ taunting her, telling her to scream for them.

"I will not scream for them. I will not. I will not. I will not. I will..." Ziva repeated the phrase over and over again under her breath, like a mantra. It was cut off when the next contraction hit, worse than the last. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed heavily through her teeth, again squeezing the life out of Tony's hand.

"Ziva, sweetcheeks, come on, you are not there. You are here. Here, in DC, with me. And your baby is being born. Little Avalyn, she's coming to meet you. You're okay, you're okay," he kept repeating softly, but nothing worked.

It was a little over a half an hour later when, in between contractions, Ziva came back to them long enough to voice her need to push.

"You're fully dilated, Ziva, you are right, you need to push. You can do it, okay, your baby needs you to do this," Dr. Brooks told her.

Tony watched as her face screwed up in pain and felt his hand being crushed in her grip. Ziva, on the other hand, was trying so hard not to voice how much pain she was in. She could hear them telling her to push, and she complied, but the pain was so incredibly great that she could barely concentrate on anything else than remaining silent. Somewhere in her brain, she could hear the little voices telling her it was foolish, that she needed to give up her mission to remain silent so she could concentrate on pushing, but her pride simply would not let her. She would not scream for them.

The pain was so great. She could practically smell them, taste them, feel them prodding her. She could hear their malicious cackles in her ears and see their evil grins behind her eyelids.

"Come on, Ziva, open up your eyes and look at me. You can do this. Just push. You're doing great, you can do it, keep going," he coaxed her. He knew that she was somewhere else entirely. "How are we doing doctor?" he asked.

"Well, actually, we're coming along well, she just needs to keep pushing. I'll be able to see the head here in a second... Ah ha! Ziva? Ziva, can you hear me? I can see your daughter's head. She's almost out, okay, you're almost done delivering her, just keep pushing."

"You hear that, Ziva? We can see Avalyn!" Tony repeated, stroking her hair lightly, "You're doing so well, ninja, just keep it up."

Somewhere, Ziva heard a voice. _See... Daughter's head... out... delivering... pushing... See Avalyn..._

Minutes later, she a shrill cry pierced the air, and Ziva felt the pressure release. Her daughter... she could hear her daughter. Her baby's crying was more than enough to pull her back to the present. She opened her eyes and saw Tony standing at the foot of the bed with Dr. Brooks, who was gently wiping down the small creature that the cries initiated from.

"Tony, will you cut the umbilical cord?" the doctor asked. Tony looked to Ziva for permission and was delighted to find that her eyes were open and alert, pining to see her daughter for the first time. Ziva nodded slightly and smiled at him, silently granting him permission to cut the cord. Once he had done so, the doctor gingerly wrapped the baby in a pink blanket and handed her to Tony, whose gaze was transfixed on the blanket-swaddled miracle. Gently, he placed the baby in her mother's outstretched arms.

Ziva stared into her child's brown eyes, and was instantly filled with a love she could never have possibly imagined before. Everything she had experienced and endured within the last year was worth it, just because she could now hold her daughter in her arms. She forgot altogether about the last few hours of unbearable pain— she could no longer remember what it felt like. Seeing her baby cancelled it all out.

"Avalyn," she whispered, "Welcome to our family, tateleh. We have been waiting for you."

A/N: This chapter was _incredibly_ hard to write! It took me three hours, I think that's a record:P I hope it was satisfactory. I know virtually nothing about childbirth, so my apologies for not going into much detail! I hope that you liked it:) More to come!


	36. Eyes

"Ziva... She is so beautiful!"

Ziva passed Avalyn to her friend, realizing that Abby's doting nature would no doubt result in her spoiling the little girl to death. She didn't mind, however, and she was more than willing to let Abby play the part of the favorite aunt.

"What's her name?" McGee asked as he looked over Abby's shoulder at the sleeping infant.

Ziva smiled. "Avalyn Rivka David," she replied. "But you can call her Ava."

"Such a gorgeous name," said a voice from the corner of the room. Ziva looked up upon hearing her father's voice. He was standing in the darkened corner, out of the way. Eli was the last person from whom Ziva expected to hear those words, but she took it in stride. She saw from the meaningful way he looked at her that he remembered their argument all those years ago, but no longer felt the same way. She nodded at him, gesturing for him to come closer. She took her daughter back from Abby and gently placed her in the arms of her only other blood relative.

"Shalom, tateleh," Eli greeted, holding her gently. "I am your sabba," he said, introducing himself as her grandfather. "You have beautiful eyes, Avalyn."

Ziva shot him a look that had gratefulness written all over it. She was so happy that her father was able to be here for this special moment, even if he hadn't been there for any of the others. She tried not to think about the fact that this would probably be the last he would witness. This was a happy day, and she refused to sully it with such unhappy realities.

"May I?" Gibbs had been silent up until then, simply watching unselfishly and patiently as the rest of the family got their turn with the precious newborn. He was tired of waiting, however.

Ziva watched as her biological father handed Ava to her surrogate father, glad that the two were able to get along. Having them in the same room was... interesting, to say the least.

"Hey, precious," was all the silver-haired man said. He swayed back and forth, bouncing slightly. Ziva could tell that he was not doing it consciously, it was rather a force of habit. Looking up at him, she couldn't help but think about all Gibbs had lost, but she was also reminded by the love in his eyes of all that he had found.

A few minutes later, everyone was shooed away by a rather irritated nurse. She wasn't however, able to get rid of Gibbs. His glare forced her to back out of the room slowly, leaving him alone with the new mother.

"She's beautiful, Ziver," he told her, "spitting image of her mother." Ziva smiled at his kind words, but Gibbs could tell there was something on her mind. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"She doesn't have my eyes," Ziva told him, shrugging slightly. She had kept her observations to herself, but she couldn't keep them in anymore. She had to tell someone.

"Not a big deal. Newborn's eyes often change color after birth—" he began to explain, but she shook her head and interrupted.

"They are not just a random color. They're his, Gibbs," she stated. There was no emotion in her words, just a simple declaration of facts.

"Ah," Gibbs replied, giving a simple nod, trying to hide the mixture of feelings running through his head.

"Look, I know you are a man of few words, but I could really use some wise words right now," she sighed.

"Ziver, does her eye color make you love her _any_ less?" he asked.

"Of course not!" she cried indignantly.

"And why do you think that is?"

"You sound like a shrink," she grumbled.

"You're the one who asked for advice. Answer the question," he commanded.

Ziva took a deep breath. "I do not know.She's my daughter. I have to love her," she told him.

"I don't think that's it," he told her, tilting his head to the side.

"I do not know! I guess because... Maybe because, while the color is the same, nothing else is. His eyes may have been the same color, but they were always filled with a cruelty, a hatred, a malice. Where that sadism was in his eyes, I only see innocence and happiness in hers," she suggested. Gibbs smiled softly and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Bingo," he replied. Ziva grinned.

"Thanks for talking. It... helps. It makes it easier for me to sort out my thoughts," she told him.

"Of course, Ziver. Anytime."

A/N: Yes, I know it's incredibly short, and it's crap, and I apologize for that. I feel especially bad because it was a long wait, too. But the fact of the matter is, I've lost my stuff. I know what you're thinking: _Don't look at me, I didn't TOUCH your stuff. _(tehe. If you get that reference you are my new best friend).I have a pretty bad case of writers block due to decreasing motivation to write for NCIS. I've recently become re-obsessed with Avatar, and I am not very good at juggling two obsessions at once. Hopefully when the show comes back in September I will find my inspiration again, but for now, I can't guarantee very frequent updates or my usual quality of work. So I apologize, and just ask for some patience. I have no intention of abandoning this, it goes against everything I believe in with fanfics. Even though the baby is born, it's not over yet. I know you guys deserve better than this, and I apologize:( Thank you to **NCIS Ziva DiNozzo**, **Kikilia, Liraeyn, Shy Chey, Vi, Tiva Lovah, **a **guest** reviewer, **Zivafan2481, Robern,** and **ncisxpsych** for the awesome reviews. Thanks for sticking with this!


	37. Beginnings

The sun shone brightly that day, like it always did in Hiafa, which made the synagogue equivalent to an oven. She tugged on her black dress with her free arm in an attempt to rid herself of the discomforting heat.

"We are gathered here today to lay to rest Eliahu David," the Rabbi began. Ziva's dry eyes were focused on the casket, and her focus strayed from the words of the rabbi as he began his speech. Her arms felt empty without Ava's comforting weight, but she knew that it was much too hot in here for a newborn. Tony was taking good care of her, she was sure.

The rabbi's speech was short, which brought the spotlight to Ziva much faster than she would have liked. Her legs carried her almost subconsciously, and soon she was standing before the relatively small congregation. She cleared her throat.

"My father was a complicated man," she began, "and that itself made the preparation of my eulogy quite difficult. I never knew what to think of my Papa. He was ambitious, almost to fault sometimes, and his job progressively took pieces from him for almost my entire life. He was burdened with the safety of a nation that is constantly under attack from at least one of its neighbors. It changed him, and caused him to do many things regarding family that he came to regret in his final days. As his only surviving child, I can attest to that. My father was a very difficult man to love, but he was still only human. Towards the end, when his own mortality had been swiftly brought to his attention, he realized how far off the path he had strayed, and did his very best to correct it. He died redeemed, at least in my eyes, and that is what is important."

Ziva gave a sigh of relief as she went back to her seat in the congregation, expecting to feel the tears coming; none came.

Later that day, when her father's body was buried in Israeli soil under the hot Israeli sun, she clutched her daughter to her chest and whispered the Kaddish, feeling a strange sense of closure and calm overtake her.

And her new life commenced.

…

"Ziva, darling, it's been so long since we've talked." The older woman smiled grandly and enveloped her niece in a hug.

"We talked yesterday!" Ziva laughed, disagreeing.

"I meant face to face," the woman clarified, drawing back from the hug, "So you must be Tony! Ziva has told me so much about you!" she exclaimed, facing the special agent.

"Tony, this is my Aunt Nettie," Ziva introduced, "Aunt Nettie, Tony."

"Aunt Nettie… why does that ring a bell?" he mused.

"Because you once yelled at me over the telephone, young man," she chuckled, "I remember your voice like it was yesterday. Good to have such a fine young man looking after my niece. God knows she needs it, with all the trouble she gets herself into!"

Tony, bless his soul, blushed. "Oh… right," he laughed nervously.

"Now, where is Ava? I saw her in your arms during the service but I want to formally meet her!" Nettie demanded.

"Ezra has her," Ziva answered. 

Nettie scoffed, "Ezra? That man is as good with children as a two legged hyena."

"Watch yourself, Nettie!" came a voice from the living room. A grinning man entered the kitchen, and handed the baby over to Nettie as a peace offering. "Must you leave so soon? Can't you stay for a little while?" he asked.

"We appreciate the hospitality, Uncle Ezra, but we really need to be getting home soon. Ava is barely even a month old, I'm afraid that we must be leaving tomorrow morning."

Nettie nodded, "Very well. I guess we must make the most of tonight, then."

"We can always speak on the phone, too," Ziva added.

"We had better! I hadn't heard a word from you for almost a year until you called me yesterday! And of course our brother wouldn't tell us _anything_, either," Nettie, grumbled. Ezra nodded in affirmation. "And then you tell me that you have a _child_ of all things, and that Eli's dead—"

"I am sorry for not calling you sooner," Ziva replied, "I should not have stayed away so long."

"You could have _at least _invited us to the wedding!" Nettie scolded.

Ezra placed a hand on his sister's shoulder. "I'm sure they had their reasons," he told her.

Meanwhile, Tony's eyes were the size of saucers. He looked to Ziva who was looking at the floor, dejected. "What did you tell them?" he hissed urgently.

"Nothing," Ziva replied, speaking only to Tony, but then she turned to address her aunt and uncle. "I told you both nothing, which caused you to jump to conclusions. I shouldn't have left you to guess and assume. For that I am sorry."

Ezra sighed. "Look, Ziva, I understand how society is now. The sacrament of marriage is not like it used to be. You do not have to be ashamed." 

"It is not that," Ziva told them. "Sit down."

Ezra pulled out two chairs from the kitchen table, one for himself and one for his wife, who was still holding Ava. Tony and Ziva sat across from them.

"It is not Tony's baby. I wish it was," she confessed. Under the table, Tony's hand found hers in an empowering gentle squeeze.

"Look, Ziva, we all make mistakes. Sometimes we think we are in love—"

"It is not that either," Ziva replied. Tony felt the tremors in her hands begin to intensify. "I…"

"It's okay, Ziva," Tony assured her.

To Tony's disappointment, she shook her head rapidly, her eyes squeezed shut. "I can't," she admitted, shame in her voice. "Excuse me." Without meeting anyone's eyes, not even Tony's, she stood up from her place and ran out of the room, up the stairs, and into the guest chamber. The door slammed shut.

Tony took a deep breath and looked towards the confused face of Ziva's relatives.

"What was that?" Ezra asked, baffled.

"There is a reason why Ziva didn't call you for all of those months. There's a reason why writing that eulogy was so hard. There's an explanation for… how different she is."

"What happened to her, Tony? I don't understand," Nettie asked, her voice almost begging for an explanation. She looked to be near tears.

"Last May, almost exactly a year ago, Ziva returned to Israel from NCIS. Did you know that?"

"No," both relatives answered simultaneously. 

"I do not understand. If she was in Israel, why didn't she come and see me? I live in Tel Aviv, even if Ezra does not," Nettie exclaimed.

"She was not here for that long. She was shipped off on a mission in the place of a dead man not a week after she arrived back here."

"I did not know she returned to Mossad. I thought she was working in America this whole time," Ezra told Tony.

"Eli sent her to Somalia to kill the head of a terrorist operation. On the journey there, one of her team members was killed and the other wounded. Eli ordered her to complete the mission at any cost. She was captured, and tortured for three months. Ava was conceived," Tony explained, cutting directly to the chase. It was what Ziva would have wanted him to say.

Nettie's eyes filled with tears, and Ezra's filled with rage. The woman looked to the infant in her arms, seeing her for the first time not as _Ziva's _daughter, but as the daughter of a terrorist.

"Tell me he is dead," Ezra seethed through clenched teeth. "_Tell me that you killed him!"_ he exclaimed, standing up from his seat. Nettie, quaking with sadness and grief over her poor niece, remained seated.

"He's dead. He didn't suffer as much as any of us would have liked, though," Tony added. "Aunt Nettie? Can I take have Ava so I can take her to Ziva? I've seen her like this before, and really what she needs is her daughter."

"C-can I take her? I want t-to talk to Zivaleh," the woman, who looked to have aged decades in the last few minutes, requested.

Tony nodded, "Just be careful. It's… a touchy subject."

"Of course," she replied, standing up and making her way out of the room and up the stairs. Once she was gone, Ezra turned to Tony.

"Thank you," he expressed, his eyes soft and sad. All anger had disappeared from them.

"For what?"

"For a lot of things, but mostly… Thank you for being there for her. We love her very much and it is hard to see her go through this."

"I couldn't stay away if I tried, Mr. David," Tony replied.

"Please, call me Ezra. You're practically my nephew-in-law. Any fool could see how you two feel for each other. She trusts you with her life and her daughter. I mean, here you are, at her father's funeral inhalfway around the world."

"Wouldn't be the first time I've gone halfway around the world for her," he mused.

"Really?"

"Somalia's an awful while away from D.C.," Tony shrugged.

"You were the ones who rescued her? I sort of assumed that she escaped, or that Eli—" Ezra's words were interrupted by Tony's snort.

"I hate to speak ill of the dead, but Eli would be the last person to rescue her."

"Still, you must really love her, to go so far for her, both last year and now."

"We all love her," Tony told him.

"We?"

"Our team. At NCIS, I mean," he explained.

"Oh, yes, Nettie did explain that to me. You all are very tightly knit. But I can see that you care for Ziva in a different way than just family," Ezra observed. "You love her. She's got you wrapped around her finger, Tony, a blind man could see it."

"Yes," Tony agreed, "I know."

"And you know what?"

"What?"

"She loves you, too. So, do me a favor? When—and not _if, _when_—_ there really _is_ a wedding… Invite us."

…

The footsteps advancing up the staircase were first thought by Ziva to belong to Tony. However, she soon recognized their unevenness and slow progress to belong to, undoubtedly, her aunt.

The door swung open to reveal the small older woman with tearstains down her cheeks—Tony must have told them— and an infant in her arms. Ziva stood from the bed and took her crying daughter in her arms.

"Shh, tateleh. It's okay. Momma's right here," she soothed her child. Sitting down on the bed and leaning against the headboard, she bared her breast to feed her baby. Ava latched on to her nipple, and the crying stopped.

Ziva looked up to see her aunt's gaze focused on a bitemark visible above Ava's head.

"I am sorry I didn't tell you. I was ashamed," Ziva admitted, her voice small.

"Zivaleh," Aunt Nettie began, "There is no need to be ashamed, especially with me and Ezra. We love you— and your baby— so much. It hurts to find out that you've been hurt in such ways," she explained, another tear sliding down her face.

"Please don't cry for me," Ziva requested. "For I am not sad. Not anymore."

"You aren't?"

"No. No matter how painful what happened was, and still sometimes is, I have Ava now, and Tony and I grow closer every day. I have a new beginning. I am going to apply to be a citizen of the United States. My father no longer controls me. I am free to make my own decisions, for my own good. Despite what you might think, Aunt Nettie… I've never been happier."

A/N: So it's been a while, and I apologize. Luckily, the return of NCIS has brought back my inspiration. However, where I lacked in inspiration last month I now lack in time. I'm in Speech and Debate, and any of you guys that know what International Extemporaneous is should understand why I can no longer spare two to three hours most days to write. I have, what, three pitifully unfinished stories to attend to. This, my friends and loyal readers, is going to take a while, and I apologize. I don't know how long you will have to wait for the next chapter.

I hope that you aren't mad that I skipped most of the aftermath of the birth and skipped forward a month. Honestly, I needed to write something that _wasn't _ a filler chapter. I will try to wrap this us speedily as possible but, rest assured, we have a good 5-10 chapters to go.

Have a great day and please leave a review! Thank you to **Kikilia,** **Tivalovah** who is now known as girleffect, **Liraeyn, Mishka, Vi, Zivafan2481, NCIS Ziva DiNozzo, Eric, Shychey,**__and **Angelhaggis** for the reviews and thanks to you all for the patience!


	38. Pretending

Her bed had never looked so welcoming. What she used to complain about and refer to as a lumpy, hard piece of junk had suddenly become a resting place fit for a queen. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

Ziva had been sleep deprived before, of course. She had gone days on end without it, especially during Mossad training. However, Mossad training never involved crying babies, or breast feeding, or diaper changing, or any of the other joys that came with taking care of a newborn. She loved Avalyn, there was no doubt, but there is a special bond that one forms with sleep that can never quite be matched.

It was not as if she was doing this alone, of course. Every morning, she sent a silent prayer up to God, grateful that He finally dealt her a good hand in life. Tony's dedication never ceased to amaze her. He never complained, despite how stressful it was to take care of a newborn. It must have been so difficult for him to spend all day at work, and then come home to find a crying baby and an exhausted, overwhelmed Ziva.

Tony came home late that night, happy that the killer was caught but not so much so that he had to leave Ziva to fend for herself and the baby that night. He found her virtually passed out on the bed, still fully clothed, the baby's cries filtering through the tiny speaker and in from the other room. She showed no signs that the cries even remotely reached her.

"I'll be right back," he whispered, even though he knew no one would hear. He swiftly went to the kitchen and took out one of the small bottles of breast milk, warmed it under the water, and tested it on his wrist. He made his way into the nursery and gently took Ava into his arms. Now sitting in the rocking chair, he slipped the nipple of the bottle into her mouth and heard her cries quiet as she began sucking contentedly.

When she was finished, he sat the bottle on the table and wiped her small mouth. He stood up and patted her back until she burped.

"Good girl, Ava! You're nice and full now, aren't 'cha? Tony has to go check on mommy now, baby girl, okay? Sleep tight." He kissed her forehead gently and laid her down in the crib, lingering for a moment before moving to the room next door.

She hadn't moved in the fifteen minutes he had been away. She was still out cold, and he didn't resent it one bit. He sat down on the side of the bed and gently slipped her sweatpants off around her ankles and tossed them into the hamper. He slid her shirt off over her head and unclasped her bra, which joined her pants in the basket. It only took him a second to find one of his shirts that she had the tendency to sleep in and pull it on over her head. Throughout all of this, she didn't even stir.

He himself stripped down to his boxers and joined her in the bed, carefully pulling the comforter out from under Ziva and covering them both with it.

He placed a silent kiss to her cheek before joining her in unconsciousness.

…

When she awoke, it was light out. It took a minute for her to process the significance of such an observance.

Had she really slept through the night? It was a most plausible inference, when her lack of exhaustion and fatigue was taken into account. That, and the fact that she could not for the life of her recall waking up to feed Ava.

Tony's arms were wrapped around her torso, which was clad only in one of Tony's loose grey t-shirts. She didn't recall him coming in that night. Surely he was responsible for this?

Without him, Ziva knew she would probably be having a much harder time adjusting to motherhood and her newfound responsibilities. Taking care of a baby was a lot of work, and she was infinitely grateful that he was so willing to sacrifice so much to help both a woman and baby who were not his own.

It didn't take Ziva long to realize that the lines between gratefulness and love were easily blurred, especially when it came to this particular man. He had taken care of her for so long, he deserved better than what he was getting. He was living with her and her baby, sacrificing time, sleep, and the basic pleasures of life to help her with Ava, whom he loved like his own. And yet, he was not allowed to be anything to her than just Tony. He was constantly held at an arm's length. They slept in the same bed, lived in the same house, and couldn't live without each other.

And yet still, he wasn't even allowed the title of "boyfriend."

Grateful that it was a Saturday and Tony did not have to work, she relaxed in the bed once more and snuggled closer to him within his protective embrace. Sleep did not come, however, before the baby monitor began to wail.

Tony's sleep, which was light to begin with, was interrupted. He felt the weight on the mattress shift as Ziva, having escaped his hold, stood up and stretched. She then bent down over him and placed a soft, grateful kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you for last night, Tony. You have done enough, I have it from here. "

"Huh?" he questioned, only half coherent.

"You took care of Ava all last night so I could sleep, did you not? Go back to sleep, I will feed her now," Ziva explained.

Tony smiled, but she was gone before he could formulate a reply. He gently pressed his hand to his cheek, feeling where her lips had been a second before.

He decided that, consequences be damned, he was done beating around the bush. He loved her, and he was fairly certain she knew it. Even better, if Uncle Ezra was right, she loved him too.

He realized that he was putting it all on the line because of the word of some "crazy old horse breeder," as Ziva had referred to him, but he simply didn't care.

The pretending was over.

…

When he finally rose from bed, it was late afternoon. Feeling rested and happy, he rose from the bed, driven by the need to have that conversation that both of them had been procrastinating for so long.

"Good morn— afternoon!" Ziva greeted him. She was standing at the stove, spatula in hand, wearing sweatpants and the same grey t-shirt. Her smile was radiant.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" he teased, coming up next to her.

"I have missed the feeling of being well-rested. Thank you," she said, expressing her gratefulness.

"No problem. Quesadillas?" he questioned, gesturing towards the pan.

She grimaced. "It was supposed to be. But when I tried to flip it…" she trailed off, gesturing with her spatula towards the somewhat recognizable mess of cheese, tortilla, peppers, and chicken.

"I'm sure it's good anyhow," he shrugged is shoulders.

"You can have one that is _not_ completely ruined," she assured him.

"Nah, where's the fun in that? I want this one," he gestured towards the stove, "It's got character."

"Even though it is an unfixable mess?" she asked, staring up at him meaningfully.

He looked deep into her eyes. "It's unique. I like that." She smiled, obviously happy with the answer.

When they sat down at the table for their first civilized meal in a month, Tony was rehearsing what he was going to say over and over again in his head. This _had_ to come out just right; he was risking everything.

"Ziva… Look, we need to talk," he began, mentally flinching at his opening line. It was so cliché and carried such a negative connotation.

Worry and panic engulfed Ziva. He was leaving, she was sure of it. Although it made _no_ sense whatsoever and contradicted everything she knew about Tony and his personality, she couldn't stop the feeling that he had had enough. They all did, eventually, and these past few months had been very hard on Tony, she knew.

"What is wrong?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from betraying the strong emotions she felt.

"Nothing is wrong. But… we've been dancing around this subject for too long. We avoid it with everything we have. We _need_ to discuss this, at one point or another. The sooner we clear this up the better."

"Go on," she urged.

"I'm tired of pretending. It's exhausting, pretending to not…" he trailed off, unable to bring himself to say it. The _what-ifs_ floated through his thoughts, halting his speech.

"Love me?" she suggested. She knew she was taking a risk by finishing his sentence with something so controversial. There was always the possibility that he had meant something else entirely.

However, after living with someone for so long and working side by side with them for even longer, one develops a certain foresight into their thought process. Luckily for her, she was right on the money. Tony's relieved expression was a testimony to that.

"You knew?" he asked, his voice cracking with a mixture of relief and happiness.

Ziva's responding smile lit up his soul. "You do not hide it well."

"Not sure if that's a good thing or not," he replied, laughing nervously.

Ziva stood from her place on the other side of the table and walked towards him. She leaned down and cradled his face in her hands, looking deep into his eyes.

Her lips pressed against his, altering their relationship forever.


	39. Daddy

"Where do we go from here, Tony?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, shutting off the water, setting the plate he had been cleaning down in the sink, and turning to her. She, in turn, sat her dish down as well and looked up to meet his inquisitive gaze.

"What now? Now that we have cleared the air, said what has needed to be said for a long time, what comes next? We already live together. You already act like Ava's father. We already sleep in the same bed. You've been my non-official boyfriend for months. What changes now?" she asked. Tony grinned.

"Well, for starters, I can do this," he responded, leaning down and placing a gentle but passionate kiss upon her inviting lips. The euphoria of being able to do that so casually made his chest swell with happiness, accomplishment, and pride.

"Yes, that is true," she murmured back to him, breathless.

"But you do bring up a valid point. Beyond intimacy, is anything else going to change?"

"I do not know," she whispered back, "you've already done so much for me and we've been drifting closer and closer for years now. This was inevitable."

"I thought you told me nothing was inevitable?" he corrected.

"Rule 51," Ziva shrugged.

"Wh—?"

"Sometimes, you're wrong."

"Oh, yeah," he laughed. "Well in this case, I can't say I'm unhappy that you were."

"Me neither. And, I must say, it is nice."

"What is?"

"To be able to express… how I feel," she confided. "To not have to keep it inside."

"I feel ya. I mean… It was exhausting!" he chuckled, "Come on, we can do the dishes later. Let's go sit," he prompted, guiding them over to the sofa. They sat, and he relished how easily and effortlessly she curled up next to him.

"Tony, if I may ask…" she began, after a minute's silence, "how long have you… known?"

"How long have I known that I was in love with you? Well… when you stayed in Israel it hurt. It wouldn't have hurt that much if you were just a partner, and I knew that, but I refused to acknowledge it. Because to acknowledge my love for you, especially knowing that you were so very far away, and hating me—" Ziva flinched "—for what I'd done. I couldn't handle that. It would hurt too much."

"And… after? When you got the news about… about the Damocles?" she inquired. "You told me that… that you couldn't live without me." Her words came out choppy, broken, and hesitant. She was choosing her words carefully. These were questions that she'd been pining for the answers to for a long time.

_Listen, you should know that I've taken some kind of truth serum. So if there's any questions… that you don't want to know the answer to… _

"Yes. That was when I realized that I loved you," he nodded. "And that was why I went to Somalia. Knowing that I loved you but you were on the other side of the world cursing my name would have been bad. But knowing that I loved you and that you were dead… God, Ziva, it was terrible. So I focused on other things— on revenge. Then when Saleem put you in front of me, and I saw you, _alive…_" he trailed off, unable to find the words to explain to her what he had felt in that moment. He held her tighter and tucked her head under his chin.

"Thank you," she said, after silence had engulfed them for a few minutes.

"Thanks? For what?"

"You saved me," she shrugged, "I know it took me a while to get to the point where I am grateful for it, but… I am now. And I never thanked you."

"You definitely don't need to thank me. I would do it over and over again. I would gladly die for you, Ziva, I hope you know that," Tony assured her. She smiled.

"Of course I know that. You went there to die, did you not? You _would_ have died for me, right then and there, and… I can't tell you how much that means to me," she said. "You have stuck by me through all of this, through my various… mental health issues, and through Ava, and my father."

"I did those things because I love you."

"I know. And it means the world to me. _You_ mean the world to me," she professed.

His signature grin lit up his face. "Right back atcha."

…

"Whooooppp!" Tony exclaimed in his very best baby voice. He sat on the couch in the living room, Ava in his arms. He was making sound effects as he held the baby by the underarms, mock-throwing her up and down. She was giggling as he made faces at her.

"Tony, do not break the baby!" Ziva called over from the dining room table.

Tony grinned. "Ava, your momma seems to think that I am going to drop you. What do you think? Do you think I'm going to drop you?" he cooed, setting her down in his lap. She just laughed playfully and grabbed a handful of his hair. "Ouch! Ava! Stand down!" he cried.

Ziva just laughed right along with her daughter. "A girl after my own heart," she tossed back, shutting her laptop and standing up from the table. She walked toward the couch and Tony.

"Ha! Yep. Baby girl, you're just like your momma. Always harassing me. You like bugging Daddy, huh?" he teased the child, tickling her stomach playfully.

Ziva froze in her tracks.

It took Tony a minute to realize his slip-up. He bit his lip and looked up at her hesitantly.

"Ziva, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overstep my boundaries…" he trailed off, looking up at her apologetically. "I didn't even think about what I was saying—"

Ziva just shook her head and blinked a couple of times, before she turned away and retreated to their room. Tony sighed, cursing himself. One slip up, that's all it took…

"Alright, baby girl. It's naptime. Mommy and… Tony have got to talk."

Once she had been laid in her crib, he walked down the hall to his and Ziva's room. The door was open a crack, so he pushed it open gently. What he found was Ziva, sitting on the bed, staring at a patch of wall to his left. Her gaze was a bizarre mix of pensive and empty, which was an oxymoron if he'd ever seen one.

"I'm sorry, Ziva," he apologized, approaching the bed and sitting down on the edge.

Surprisingly enough, she shook her head no. "Tony, I… I do not want you to be sorry. We've been dating for three weeks and you have been my guardian for even longer. You've been a father to Ava practically since I discovered her existence. It is not fair for me to deny you something that should just be a formality."

"If you are not comfortable with your daughter calling me that, then it's okay—"

"_Our_ daughter, Tony. _Ours._"

This correction caught him off guard. "…Really? You mean it?"

"I love you. Ava loves you. I… I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I have been thinking about this for a while now, and… I have decided that I cannot imagine my future, nor Ava's, without you in it. I don't want to."

"I feel exactly the same way. How come you didn't say anything before?" he questioned, scooting closer to her and tucking a lock of hair behind her check.

"Because, I didn't know that you felt the same way, and I didn't want to… scare you off," she replied tentatively, the last part low and soft.

"Well, I do, and I'm not going anywhere. And, since we're on the topic, I was wondering, well…" he trailed off, unable to bring about the courage to speak the next few words.

"What?"

"I was wondering if you've ever given marriage a thought? I'm not proposing, but I want to know if you have ever considered it, and if you have…"

"Yes, Tony, I have thought about it before."

"And?"

Ziva blushed. "Well, we already live together, have a daughter, share everything… Honestly I've been waiting for you to propose," she admitted shyly.

"You have?" he questioned. The grin that she had come to know and love lit up his face, like a kid on Christmas morning.

"I love you, you love me, and we can't imagine life without one another. I don't see what is stopping us," Ziva told him.

"Ziva David, I've wanted to be your husband for a very long time," he confessed. "So, will you marry me? I don't have a ring or anything, but I will certainly get one—"

She cut him off with a kiss.

"Yes. Yes, Tony, of course I will marry you."

…

Tony was absolutely elated for the rest of the week. He had bought her a ring the first thing the next day, unable to wait a second longer. When he had come into work, Gibbs saw his glowing face, spotted the jeweler's bag in his hand, and gave him a knowing look.

"Don't you dare hurt her, DiNozzo," he warned, before going back to his work. Tony had thought he saw a small smile pull at the corner of his boss' mouth.

Abby had been as extremely excited as anyone would expect. She had been lobbying for Tony and Ziva to get together for years. Finding out three weeks ago that they had finally gotten together made her gleeful enough, but finding out that they were engaged had put her over the top. Wedding plans had immediately begun to formulate in her mind, and she left work almost immediately to go to Tony and Ziva's apartment to see Ziva and the baby.

It was that Friday, five days later, when things took an interesting turn.

Tony was sitting at his desk at around noon, pining for his fiancée, when the elevator dinged. He looked up, expecting to see McGee back from lunch, or perhaps Abby, coming up to share her most recent idea for the wedding. However, what he found instead was a tall young man. Tony stood up and came out from behind his desk.

"Can I help you?" Tony asked.

"Are you Gibbs?" the man asked, his voice heavily saturated with an Arabic accent.

"Who wants to know?"

"I am Hasan Ulman, and I am here for Ziva."

A/N: Twist! Sorry for all of the fluff. I hope that you liked this chapter. Sorry that it took so long.

Wonder what's going to happen now? Tony will probably be pissed. I shall keep you in suspense because I am mean!

NCIS on now! Going to go watch it! I can't even stand the perfectness of the last episode. I hope this on is just as good!

Thanks to everybody who's helped me reach 400 reviews! The next chapter will be a big one! We're nearing the end. Thanks to **Kikilia, Shy Chey, MissCallaLilly, prince-bishop, Zivafan2481, LillianRoseGinnyCullen, Zivatjl12, mishka,** and **WritingFromTheSoul. **Please review!


	40. Memories

When her phone rang, Ziva was feeding her daughter. Seeing her soon-to-be husband's name on the caller ID, she smiled and accepted the call.

"Bonjour, mon petit-pois," she answered flirtatiously.

"Ziva, Tim's on his way to pick you up," he replied, seemingly unamused.

"What is it? What's wrong?" she questioned, the urgency in his voice triggering panic.

"I will explain it when you get here," he answered. His answers were clipped and forced.

"I will need to bring Ava," she told him.

"I know. Someone will watch her. Just be ready for him when he gets there," he insisted.

Ziva hung up the phone and grabbed the baby carrier off of the table, swiftly placing their daughter inside of it and buckling her in. It only was a matter of seconds before she had slipped on her shoes and locked their apartment behind her. Her mind was reeling. She had no idea what was going on, but judging by Tony's voice, it was serious.

McGee's car pulled up in front of her complex around ten minutes later. She buckled her daughter in the back seat before taking her place in the passenger's seat.

"Tim, please tell me what is going on," Ziva practically begged.

"I'm sorry, Ziva, I don't know," McGee replied sorrowfully.

"Tony did not tell you _anything?_" Ziva asked incredulously.

"All I know is that Tony arrested some guy. I didn't even see him myself, I was in the break room. That's all I know right now, I'm sorry."

"So you don't know who the man was?"

"Not a clue. Gibbs and Tony seemed royally pissed off, and it must be pretty urgent," Tim clarified.

"Yes," Ziva replied, running her hands through her hair, "I got that impression as well."

They spent the rest of the drive in an incredibly stressful silence. Ziva forced herself not to think about the possibilities, for she knew that if she did, she would slowly unravel.

After what seemed like a never-ending car ride, they finally departed the car and stepped in the elevator.

"Basement?" Ziva questioned, giving McGee a quizzical look.

"We're supposed to go to interrogation," Tim replied, shrugging.

Ziva's foot tapped relentlessly and impatiently as she waited for the elevator to arrive in the basement. When the doors opened, she walked at a brisk pace in the direction of the interrogation rooms.

Tony was waiting outside of Room A with a grave expression on his face. He caught sight of them immediately, placing a small kiss on his fiancée's cheek. Ziva however, was not interested in such formalities.

"I am here. Now _tell me_ what is wrong before I have to force it out of you!" she insisted, the threatening nature of her voice reminiscent of the time before Somalia.

"I think maybe… You should see for yourself. We need you to identify this dirtbag," Tony replied, his voice inexplicably hesitant.

"Is that all this is?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "Why are you so upset if that is all—"

Tony cut off her sentence by taking her hand in his and leading her into the observation room. Gibbs stood in the shadows, looking at them as they entered.

Ziva crossed the threshold, looked through the one-way glass, and nearly dropped the baby carrier in her hand.

_Hasan._

Alive? He was alive? Impossible! Saleem had killed him himself, no? Hadn't that been what he had told her? Hadn't it?

"Ziva? Is that him? Is that Saleem's brother?" Tony asked, trying to shake her out of the trance she was under.

Tony's questions did not reach her— she had too many of her own. Shock filled every ounce of her being. She could smell it— the dank moldy smell of her cell, the unhygienic, disgusting smell of _them_.

She was caught in the onslaught of memories as scenes from her captivity played back before her very eyes. Hasan coming into her cell, Hasan taking her pulse, Hasan helping her up, Hasan talking to her…

Hasan raping her.

She had, months ago, come to terms with what he had done. She had forgiven him for what he'd done the minute Saleem delivered the news of his execution. It was no matter that what he had done to her was what shattered her spirit entirely. It was no matter that he had broken her heart with his actions. She forgave him.

This, however, was an entirely unprecedented and unexpected turn of events.

"He arrived in the bullpen a half hour ago. Said he was looking for Gibbs. When I asked him who he was, he told me that his name is _Hasan Ulman_," Tony spat the words as if they were poison in his mouth. "He said he was here for _you._ I haven't interrogated him yet, no one's talked to him yet. We wanted to wait for you, see what you would say," he explained.

Ziva did not break her gaze from the man on the other side of the glass as she handed Ava over to her father. "Excuse me," she muttered, her voice nearly inaudible.

"Ziva!" Tony exclaimed, beginning to start after her. He didn't know what she would do, faced with her torturer. Would she break down? Would she hurt him? Worse, would she_ kill_ him?

Gibbs seized Tony's shoulder before he could take two steps after his fiancée. He shook his head. "Let her go. She needs to do this."

Ziva did not hesitate at the door to the interrogation room. Fearlessly and powerfully, she opened the door and entered the room. She shut it immediately, her back turned towards the man in the chair. She could feel his curious gaze on her back.

Before he could ask anything, she whirled around and faced him.

"You are alive," she stated simply. "How?"

He stood up from his chair in a hurry. To say Hasan's expression was shocked would be an understatement. He was dumbfounded, astonished, staggered.

"Ziva?!" he questioned as his jaw hit the floor and his eyes went the size of baseballs. "How? How are you here?"

"I just asked you that, Hasan," she frowned, "You have to answer my question first."

"I did not know you though I was dead," he told her, "I did not even know that you survived…"

"Answer the question," Ziva demanded, fire in her eyes.

"I do not know what Saleem told you, but I left. The night after… it happened. I could not live with what I had done," he explained.

"You… left." Her words were not a question, she just needed to say it for herself.

"Yes. I am so sorry, Ziva," he apologized. His eyes begged for forgiveness. "I should have taken you with me. But I was… how do you say it? Selfish?"

"No. I understand why you left," Ziva replied hurriedly. "I do not blame you." She made her way over to the chair opposite the man and sat down, motioning for him to do the same.

"But now… now you must tell me how you are here, sitting here with me! You… you look amazing," he complimented. Ziva gave a humorless smirk, knowing that she must look nearly unrecognizable to him. He had only ever seen her in her emaciated, bruised, and bloodied state. He had never seen her the way she was then— confident, proud, and fierce. He had never seen her well dressed (nor dressed at all, she might add), nor had he seen her with a healthy complexion and meat on her bones.

"It's amazing what being fed and cared for daily will do to a person, hmm?" she replied.

His face saddened. "I am sorry," he apologized again. "For everything."

"Hasan—"

"No. What I did to you was unforgiveable. It should never have happened. I should have just accepted whatever Saleem would have done to me, I should not have…" he trailed off, unable to bring himself to voice what he had done.

"Raped me?" Ziva finished for him, her voice strangely sturdy and calm. From the other side of the glass, Ziva thought she heard a yell.

Hasan's eyes closed and his pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am so sorry," he said softly, his voice cracking.

"Do you care to tell me why you are here?" Ziva inquired.

Hasan opened his eyes and looked up at her. "For you."

"Yes, that is what I've been told. But if you thought I was dead, then why would you have come for me?" she questioned, prodding at the holes in his story.

"I do not understand," he admitted, shooting her a confused look.

"What were your intentions when you came here?" Ziva reiterated.

"I wanted your family to have closure. I wanted your loved ones to know that you died protecting them. You told me about a man named Gibbs, and a man named Tony, and a man named Maggie. You told me that they worked for NCIS. I knew that I had to come for you and tell Gibbs, Tony, and Maggie that you protected them until the end—that you loved them. That is why I came. To tell them all that you told me that you would tell them if you got the chance to see them again," Hasan explained.

Ziva smiled. "Ah. It seems that your words were misunderstood."

"How do you mean?'

"You said that you came 'for me.' My co-workers interpreted that to mean that you were here to take me away," Ziva explained, somewhat amused.

Hasan looked around the small room, frowning in confusion. "They arrested me because I speak bad English?"

Ziva laughed, a sound that was completely new altogether to Hasan. "You do not speak bad English. You just have to watch how some words are used in context, that is all," she assured him. "And it was not just that your words were taken as a threat. You stated your last name, and Tony is well aware of the name of the person who tortured me."

"The man who arrested me was Tony?" Hasan asked, surprised.

Ziva nodded. "The one and only," she replied.

"And what you told me in Africa that you would say to him if you saw him again… Have you done that?" he questioned, shooting her a meaningful look.

Beaming, Ziva held up her left hand and proudly displayed the engagement band on her ring finger. "I did," she admitted, "but it took me a while."

"Congratulations. I am so, so glad that everything turned out okay for you," he expressed.

"And about that apology… I forgave you a long time ago, Hasan. When your brother told me that he had killed you, I blamed myself. It was no one's fault but Saleem's but still… I couldn't help it. And I know that what you did to me was something that you would have avoided if you could. I understand."

"I broke you, Ziva," he insisted.

"Yes. You did. But I would have broken anyway, and probably sooner if not for you. You kept me sane during the months when I would have otherwise gone crazy. You postponed my breaking just long enough so that, once I did break, my rescue was not far off," Ziva explained. "I know it sounds like crooked logic, but I believe that your actions did save me. I wasn't in a good shape when they pulled me out of there. It took me a very long time to get better, and I'm still healing. But I'm okay now, I'm more than okay. And, so are you."

"I do not deserve such ready forgiveness," he replied, shaking his head.

"_Damn right you don't."_ Tony's voice coming in over the speakers startled both people in the interrogation room. Ziva turned back to face the mirror.

"Stay out of this, Tony," she retaliated, rolling her eyes.

"_Nope. You're my fiancée. I have a right to be protective now._"

"It never stopped you before," she pointed out.

"_But now I have double to be protective of."_

His words reminded Ziva of their daughter, which was no doubt the intention. Tony was no doubt itching to send this guy on a guilt trip by telling him that she had been impregnated in Somalia by his brother.

It is with this thought that Ziva realized that this man almost definitely the only biological relative of her daughter in D.C. He was _biologically related_ to her daughter. She didn't know why this thought startled her so, but there was no denying that it did.

"Tony? Could you bring her in here?" Ziva questioned, standing from her seat. Hasan's eyes were curious yet apprehensive.

In a few short moments, the door to interrogation opened to yield Tony holding baby Ava in his arms. She was wearing a pink and white striped onesie and crying for her mother. Ziva got up to meet them.

Tony handed the child over to Ziva, who did not miss the look her fiancée shot Hasan over her shoulder. She held her daughter close to her chest and rocked her softly.

"It's about time you invited me in for the party. Ava's been crying since she woke up five minutes ago," Tony complained.

"You didn't give her her pacifier?" Ziva questioned.

"No, because you didn't pack it!" he defended. Ziva sighed in defeat.

"Fine. You win," she growled.

"Oh my, Ziva…" Hasan trailed off, "You have a daughter? I had no idea."

"Yes. Her name is Avalyn. She is two months old. Would you like to hold her?

Hasan nodded and took the baby in his arms. Ziva watched as the smile slowly faded from his face as he did the mental math.

"Ziva…" He was speechless. He didn't know how to respond to such news. Suddenly, a thought struck him. "Oh my god, she has my eyes. Is she… Please tell me I didn't." His voice was pleading with her, begging.

"You didn't."

"But her eyes—!"

"Are also the same color as Saleem's were."

"Are you positive?" he questioned, urgency and desperation clouding his voice.

"Yes. She was conceived mid-July. She is your niece, not your daughter," Ziva insisted.

Hasan let out the breath he had been holding. "She is beautiful, Ziva. I am glad that something good managed to come of all of that suffering."

"I am too, believe me. I am too."

A/N: So yeah, I've known this chapter was coming since I first created Hasan's character, and have been eagerly awaiting it ever since (and I know that you have been, too, **Angelhaggis**). To finally write it was both relieving and stressful. Nothing ever goes down as well on paper as it does in my mind. But I made it unusually (for me) long, so I hope that you did enjoy it!

For the sake of the story, pretend that Ziva and Hasan would have had that conversation in English realistically. I wanted Tony to hear every word :) Next chapter is his point of view of all of this!

Thank you to **Kikilia, **a **Guest** reviewer, **Summer95, Insanetrouble, MisterBlueButterfly, Robern, Angelhaggis, NCIS Ziva DiNozzo, Violet, Shy Chey, LillianRoseGinnyCullen, **and **Kryptonite Keep** for the amazing reviews! I really appreciate each and every one:) Have a nice day now!


	41. Logic

Tony clutched his daughter to his chest as he opened the door to the interrogation room. To say that the recent revelation had angered him would be an understatement. This man, this _Hasan Fucking Ulman_ had raped Ziva, he'd admitted that much. But Ziva's relationship with him seemed to go beyond that— she said she'd forgiven him, after all.

That did not matter much to Tony, though. His blood boiled and his protective instincts flared up violently. He was so tense that he had to remind his muscles not to crush Ava against his chest.

When he entered the room, he found Ziva staring at him expectantly. He composed himself upon seeing Ziva's face. He would try to be open minded, for her sake; he trusted her judgment. He would play nice temporarily, until Ziva was through with the bastard.

Then, no matter how well Ziva would undoubtedly defend her choice to forgive Hasan, it would be his turn.

"It's about time you invited me in for the party. Ava's been crying since she woke up five minutes ago," Tony addressed his fiancée.

After they bickered momentarily over a pacifier, Hasan spoke up. "Oh my, Ziva… You have a daughter? I had no idea!"

It was all Tony could do to keep from socking the bastard in the face.

"Yes. Her name is Avalyn. She is two months old. Would you like to hold her?" Ziva offered. Tony clenched his teeth, trying to remind himself of his personal promise to trust Ziva's judgment. Still, though, when he saw _his_ daughter in the arms of a man who had raped the woman he loved, he was barely able to control himself. It doesn't matter how Hasan justified when he had done to Ziva— there was no excuse.

Tony saw recognition dawn on Hasan's face, and he got a bit of pleasure out of the horror he saw there.

"Ziva… Oh my god, she has my eyes. Is she… please tell me I didn't." The man was practically begging, and Tony was torn between finding satisfaction from this fact or being severely annoyed that this man appeared to have such a repentant heart and guilty conscience. Some part of him wished that this man was just like the ones that Tony had encountered in Somalia— cruel and unrelenting and remorseless. He wished that this was a wrong or right, good-guy and bad-guy situation. He wished it was simple, black and white. How much easier this would be if it wasn't so habitually grey!

Sadly, hardly anything was so cut and dry anymore.

"You didn't," Ziva assured him.

"But her eyes—!"

"Are also the same color as Saleem's were," Ziva told him. Tony's eyebrows raised. This was something that Ziva had never confessed to him. He had known, of course, that Ava's eyes weren't Ziva's, but he had assumed, misguidedly or not, that since Ava was young her eyes were still changing and did not necessarily reflect their permanent, inherited color.

It was then that Tony realized that he had been wrong, and the more he thought about this the more it hurt. Is that what Ziva saw every time she looked into her daughter's eyes? Did she see that monster reflected in her baby girl? He prayed not.

"Are you positive?" Hasan asked.

"Yes. She was conceived mid-July. She is your niece, not your daughter," Ziva replied. Tony clenched his fists, as this statement rubbed him the wrong way.

"She is beautiful, Ziva. I'm glad that something good managed to come of all that suffering."

"I am too, believe me. I am too," Ziva replied.

"Okay, hold up a second," Tony burst in, unable to hold it back any longer. He took a step towards Hasan in a confrontational manner. "Who says you get to be her uncle, huh? Saleem was _not_ her father, not in the way that counts! She is _my_ daughter. You don't deserve Ziva's forgiveness, no matter what she says. It does not matter _how_ you justify it, you _raped my finacée!_ You violated her, you hurt her, and in your own words, you _broke her!_ Who says you get a claim to her daughter?" Tony fumed, jealousy and rage flooding his veins. He hated hearing them talk about Ava having _his eyes._ He hated hearing his daughter be called Hasan's niece. As stupid as it was, he hated that this man was related to Ava in a way that he himself would never be able to be.

"Tony…" Ziva soothed, her voice a mix between a warning and a reassurance.

"No, Ziva, he is right," Hasan told her, placing the baby gently back into her mother's arms.

Ziva shot Tony an unreadable look. "Can I talk to you outside for a minute, please?" she asked him, grabbing his elbow with her free arm and pulling him towards the door. She released him to open the door, and when it shut the couple was in the hallway.

"Tony, I need you to calm down," were her first words to him. He yanked his arm away from hers.

"No. What you need to do is explain this to me," he cried. Obviously calm was the last thing from his mind.

Annoyance crept into the forefront of Tony's mind when Observation's door opened and McGee stepped out.

"Probie, can't you see that we're having a private conversation?!" Tony exclaimed, already frustrated from the amount of unanswered questions he had bottled up inside. McGee did not reply to this. Instead, he quickly addressed Ziva and told her that perhaps it was best if he took Ava. The mother nodded, knowing that it was not necessary for her daughter to be present for this conversation with all its argumentative potential. She handed Ava to Tim and he reentered Observation.

Ziva's eyes met Tony's again cautiously. "You do not understand," she told him.

"Then _make me understand,_ dammit! All I know are random pieces of information that I can't seem to make any sense of!" Tony yelled. Frustration, anger, and confusion did not mix well. "How does he know so much about you, about _us?_ How could you forgive him for _raping_ you?!"

"He was _forced to, Tony_, on pain of death!" she fired back, defending both the actions of Hasan and herself. "Saleem would have surely disposed of him if he did not. He did what he thought he had to do."

"That doesn't mean you need to forgive him!" he insisted.

"Tony. I know you are having a hard time wrapping your head around this, but I need you to listen to me. When Hasan came to my cell the first time, I had practically given up. I had stopped fighting the men when they came in the night. He was the first person to touch me with kindness, compassion. He asked my name, made me feel like a human again, and not just some nameless, worthless _sex toy._"

"He was… kind to you?"

"Yes. For weeks he would come back, and we would do nothing but talk. It restored my sanity, I think, if only temporarily. I told him about Gibbs, the father figure I always wanted, about McGee, the kind-hearted compatriot that always looked out for me, about Abby, the gothic ball of energy that loved unconditionally, about Ducky, the wise and sturdy confidant… About you. About how I had wronged you. About how I thought that I might have… loved you."

"You didn't worry that it wasn't all a tool of Saleem's to get information?" he questioned, somewhat concerned.

She shook her head. "I made sure I only gave him information that would prove useless in a terrorist's hands. Hasan was, from the beginning, a kind man, and not just when compared to the other men. He was, first and foremost my… friend."

"Friend?" he asked, disbelieving.

"At least what passed for a friend in that hell. He talked to me like I was a _person,_ Tony, like I _mattered._ You do not know how good that felt in a place where all I knew were cruel words, heavy fists, and groping fingers. I trusted him. And, as foolish as it may seem… I still do."

"What happened the night he… raped you?" Tony asked, almost hesitantly.

"A few weeks after we met, one night, a group of men came in to the cell. Hasan was one of them. They ordered Hasan to rape me… and that was that. The next day Saleem told me he had found out about my alliance with his brother. He told me that he shot Hasan on the spot. I took his word for it, and decided that I forgave Hasan for what he had done. He was killed because he befriended me. I could not… I cannot hold what he did against him."

"_Why?_! He still hurt you. It was still wrong. I don't understand how you can just _forgive him,_ entrust him with your—our— child!"

"Tony," she told him, taking a step forward and taking his hand, "I need you to understand something. You cannot even begin to imagine what it was like in that place, for either of us. You are forced to do what you need to survive. I did… shameful and unspeakable things to survive that place in the first month. And if that isn't enough to convince you of my logic… There is another reason."

"There is?"

"Do you remember Marco and Mickey?" Ziva asked. Tony nodded in affirmation. "What I did to Marco was unforgivable. I _tortured _that man. I listened to his screams and heard his cries. I did it voluntarily."

Tony, seeing where this was going, sighed. "And you think that if Marco could forgive you for that, then you can surely forgive Hasan for his transgression against you," he finished for her.

She gave him a small smile. "Exactly. I am so much less worthy of forgiveness from Marco than Hasan is from me. I have done some terrible things in my life, too."

"You were forced to, you know. You wanted your father's approval."

"It does not matter, Tony. Hasan hurt me, yes, but you cannot even begin to imagine how hopeless that place was, how easily one option could seem like the only possible choice. It was a completely different world. Both Hasan and I did what we had to do to survive. He is repentant, surely you see that. He came here off his own volition to make sure that you, my loved ones, got closure. Please, for me, give him a shot. I am not saying you have to like it, but… Please just try." She leaned forward and placed her lips on his.

Tony sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "Yeah, okay, I'll try. Just… promise me something, okay?"

"Anything," she muttered back, her face still inches from his.

Tony froze, realizing he didn't know how to phrase his next words. "You know what, never mind."

Ziva pulled back. "Tell me."

"It's stupid, don't worry about it."

"I do not care. I want to know what you are thinking," she assured him.

He frowned. "Um… Just… Don't let him take my place in Ava's life, okay?"

Her eyebrows rose. "What are you talking about, Tony?"

"I told you it was stupid."

"Explain," she demanded.

He gritted his teeth and continued, explaining what was going on in his troubled mind the best he could. "When he said that she has his eyes, it made me realize something. He's related to her in a way I can never even hope to be, and—"

"Anthony DiNozzo," she interrupted firmly, "You are Avalyn's father. No one will _ever_ take your place."

"I know, but hearing you say that Hasan is Ava's uncle… It reminded me that as much as I wish we could, we can't just forget about Ava's biological paternal side of the family," he tried to explain. She kissed him again.

"I do not know what to tell you, _ahava,_ other than you will always be her one and only father."

"I can live with that," he told her, returning the favor with another kiss.

"Good. So can I," she replied, smiling genuinely.

"I still get to hit him, though, right?"

A/N: So sorry this took me, what, a month and a half to write? I'm trying my very hardest to make the reactions of all three characters realistic. It's fairly difficult, because I'm trying to put myself in three different pairs of shoes at a time with absolutely zero personal experience. There's a lot of characterization to take into consideration. I rewrote this chapter twice. So please just bear with me :)

My profound thanks to **JJ-206, Violet, RillianRoseGinnyCullen, Kikilia14, insanetrouble, Rebecca-in-blue, crayolakid0413, angelhaggis, shychey97, aquasm, summer95, Robern, NCIS Ziva DiNozzo, Liraeyn, **and **KaiaBlackrock** for the awesome reviews:) I appreciate each and every one of them!

I'm trying my best to wrap up this story, so it should be over before fifty chapters, if not before:)


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